Origins
by 1 Jagged Outlaw Queen
Summary: How the fun all began. Gil and Heather's relationship goes public, birthday celebrations and the "Birth" of Lady Heather, plus sexy weekend getaways, and much more. Our story begins Summer 2008, shortly after the airing of "For Warrick"
1. Chapter 1

Scene 1

August 4, 2008…

"Hi Zelda." Heather greeted her part-time chef as she set her purse and shopping bags on the kitchen table.

"Hi; how was your shopping trip? Did you enjoy yourself?" Zelda smiled warmly at her as she glanced up from the dough she was kneading at the island counter top.

"I did. I found some adorable things for Allison, and Derek is working on a new dress for me. I couldn't find what I wanted in any of my usual shops so I went to see him." Heather said referring to her personal tailor as she gazed at the dough. "I love it when you bake bread. It smells heavenly in here."

Zelda nodded appreciation for the praise "You're having a new dress made? What's the occasion?"

"Yesterday at breakfast Gil pointed out two things. One: we've been seeing each other for about eight months and we've yet to actually go out anywhere and …Two: my birthday is three weeks away. So, he says he wants to take me out somewhere nice, but he won't say where. I told him he had to at least tell me what sort of attire I should choose for the evening. He thought for a moment and said "formal." I have to admit. I'm looking forward to it; nearly to the point of distraction Zelda."

"Wait…you two haven't been out yet?"

"No. He comes here when he gets off work or sometimes I spend the night at his place so that I'm there in the morning when he gets home…"

Zelda interrupted. "You are telling me that man hasn't even taken you out to dinner yet?" She shook her head in shock and disapproval. "I gave him more credit than that. I should sit him down and give him a good talking to."

"No, you will leave him be." Heather said to the older woman. "Gil and I both like just being alone together …in private.

"I can guess why." Zelda smiled, "…and I don't blame you, but…"

"That isn't the only reason why Zelda and you let him be… I haven't said a word to him about going out in public. I waited for him to ask so that I'd know that he's comfortable with the idea and apparently he is. I won't have you giving him grief because he didn't ask fast enough to suit your tastes. Understood?"

"Yes Heather." She said flatly.

Heather smiled good-naturedly. "I know you mean well Zelda, but I'm serious. Not a word to him. Now, where is he? I saw his Tahoe out front."

He got here about hmmm…" She looked at the clock on the stove. "An hour and a half ago. I let him in. Poor man works too hard Heather. He looked positively dead on his feet. I said hello and offered him some breakfast. On his way up the stairs he muttered something I couldn't be absolutely sure of, but I think he might have actually said he was 'too tired to chew'. I heard the shower upstairs come on and then shut off a few minutes later. I haven't heard a peep out him since. I bet he's dead to the world smack in the middle of that enormous bed of yours."

"Hmm… it's 10:49 now." Heather said with her back to the only clock in the kitchen. I think a midmorning nap sounds delightful."

As Heather gathered her shopping bags and made to leave the room Zelda asked, "Are you ever going to tell me how you do that?"

"Do what?" Heather called from just outside the kitchen archway as if the two women hadn't had this conversation a hundred times in the eleven years Zelda had worked for her.

Zelda rolled her eyes even though there was no one in the room to see her do it. "Tell time without looking at a clock. What else?"

There was silence for a beat and then suddenly Heather popped her head back into the room; the rest of her hidden from view out in the hallway. "Zelda, I've told you before…"

"Yes, I know, don't tell me, you've got great timing."

"Yes Zelda, I do. Now if you'll excuse me; my internal clock says it's time to go upstairs and kiss a certain forensic scientist I know."

Zelda shook her head smiling and went back to kneading dough.


	2. Chapter 2

Scene 2

Heather set her purse and her shopping purchases on a chair in her sitting room then walked over and gently pushed open the door to her bedroom. What she saw inside made her lips curl upward in a broad smile. Before entering the room she slipped out of her heels and used her left foot to gently nudge them out of the path of the doorway. She stepped into the room; quietly closed the door and continued smiling at the mess. Gil must have started undressing the moment the bedroom door closed behind him.

Not two feet from the door Gil's jacket lay in a rumpled heap on the hardwood floor. He'd come in and gone immediately to the bathroom for a quick shower. She knew this because his jacket had obviously been the first item of clothing he'd shed. He'd stopped at her vanity long enough to deposit his wallet, watch, pager, and cell phone. Then the trail of clothes continued across the room until he'd obviously removed his boxer shorts standing just inside the bathroom door. She padded around the room on her bare feet picking up his discarded clothing then placed it all on the seat of the chair next to the window. She stripped down to bare skin herself; leaving her own clothes on the same chair and crossed the room to the bed.

Zelda had been more right than she knew. He was smack in the middle of her bed, flat on his back, and out cold. He'd kicked most of the bed linens to the foot of the bed so that he was only partially covered by the sheet. A corner of the sheet was draped across his hips; covering only his most intimate body parts. Because of the size of the bed, and his position in the center, Heather literally had to crawl onto the bed to reach him. She climbed up, and sat back on her heels for a moment; just looking down at him. She waited a full twenty seconds to see if he'd somehow sense her presence even in his slumber. He did not stir. So she leaned over and brushed his lips with a feather-light kiss. She pulled away again and waited. His only response was to wrinkle his forehead momentarily, and to pass two fingers on his right hand over his lips. She smiled, gave up, straightened the bed sheet and scooted beneath it, settling in beside him careful not to touch him anymore than she already had, but no sooner than she felt her weight start to settle on the mattress the sleeping man beside her rolled onto his side and pulled her close. She felt the slow steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her back as he threw one of his legs over both of hers. He draped an arm over her torso, and murmured 'Heather' in his sleep. On some level, he obviously knew she was there with him. Heather sighed contentedly, and knew that was all she needed for the moment. She closed her eyes and let herself drift away.


	3. Chapter 3

Scene 3

Ten days later…

Heather stepped out on to the sidewalk and immediately wished she'd thought to extract her sunglasses from her purse before stepping out of Derek Myerson's shop. The late afternoon sun was brutally bright. She began searching her purse for the glasses and was focused so intently on the task at hand that she was startled when a woman's voice called her name. She jumped slightly, and placed a hand to her chest while looking to her left for the source of the vaguely familiar voice. Catherine Willows was walking in her direction with an air of uncertainty in her posture, but once the two women made eye contact she smiled warmly.

"I'm sorry I startled you Heather. I wasn't entirely certain it was you until you looked up from your bag. We've met three times before, but only briefly and I don't know if you remember me. I'm…"

Heather interrupted by offering to shake her hand. "Hello Ms. Willows. It's nice to bump into you."

Catherine's smile widened, as she waved a dismissive hand. "Do we have to stand on formally? It's just Catherine, okay?"

"Catherine it is, then."

"Good, I was just coming out of the dance studio a few doors over when I saw you step out of this shop. I wanted to say hi, and to be a little bit nosey… if you'll permit me."

Heather searched the cheerful woman's eyes for a quick beat and decided to make good use of opportunity. "Permission granted… on two conditions."

Catherine chuckled. "Name your price."

"One: I haven't had lunch yet this afternoon and I'm famished. If you're not too busy join me, and we'll talk as long as…Two: you afford me a little reciprocation."

"Deal!" Catherine replied with enthusiasm. "Where are we eating?"

"At Tony's Deli; here at the end of the sidewalk?"

"I was going to stop there anyway. I love their turkey club."


	4. Chapter 4

Scene 4

The two women sat in comfortable silence at a small table that was tucked into a corner inside the deli taking the first few bites of their orders. Catherine ordered her favorite sandwich with no bacon, no mayo, extra tomato, and a diet Coke. Heather's order was a grilled shrimp salad and a cup of tea.

"So," Heather began first. "The dance studio; what's it called…that's new… right?"

"No, not the business itself; the owner just recently moved to this location. Her first studio was across town. It was smaller than the one here and about the same price from what I understand. It's called The Powerhouse Dance Academy. I was paying my daughter's monthly tuition.

"I see, and how is Lindsay?"

Catherine smiled happily; pleased that Heather remembered her daughter's name after she had only heard it once long ago. "She's fifteen…"

Heather laughed at the aggrieved pause in her voice. "Enough said."

Catherine laughed and nodded. "Where does time go? It still feels like yesterday that I told you she was almost eight, and you told me that Zoë had just started her freshman year at Harvard…"

Catherine paused when she saw the flicker of dark shadow that passed through Heather's eyes, belying the smile that she somehow managed to keep on her face. "Heather…how careless of me. I'm …"

Heather held up a hand to stop her words. "Please, don't finish that sentence." Shehalf commanded, half pleaded in a hushed tone.

When Catherine chose to remain silent Heather breathed a deep heavy sigh. "Thank you Catherine."

"Why on Earth are you thanking me?"

"Because we moms like it when someone remembers our child's name; don't we?" Heather gave her a pointed look.

Catherine smiled again as she thought of how it had pleased her seconds before to discover that Heather still recalled Lindsay's name. "Yes. We do." She admitted.

"And…It's so much more important after you loose that child; believe me. Now that Zoë is gone; it's like there's some unwritten rule. The few friends I had before her death that still come around will jump through hoops to avoid motioning her name. I know they mean well, but it's feels like they all got together and decided that if they dared to utter her name I might go into hysterics. Catherine people who knew her will avoid saying her name in my presence at all cost; as if she never existed at all. And…she did."

Catherine watched helplessly; unable to think of a single thing to say as two tears slid down Heather's face.

"She did. And, damn it, the people who knew her; the same people who watched her grow up can't wait for a polite reason to leave the room if her name comes up in conversation. I have no words to tell you how badly that hurts me. It helps to hear her name and know that someone remembers her; even if you didn't know her. The fact that you barely know me and can still recall her name is a gift. So please don't ever feel that you shouldn't say Zoë's name, or feel that you should apologize if you do."

"I promise I won't from now on." Catherine assured.

Heather pushed the remainder of her salad around with her fork; suddenly completely uninterested in finishing it. When she looked up again she found Catherine staring at her half-eaten sandwich with the same lack of desire.

Catherine eyed her and made an attempt to break the awkward silence that had fallen over them. "So… Grissom made an offhand remark sometime back, I think it was around the first of the year, that you'd closed up shop; no more Dominion?"

"Nope; I sold with the legal provision that I'm still entitled to fifteen percent of its earnings, because the buyer wanted to keep the domain. I sold the business out right, and the house is paid for. It's not the dominion any more, but it's mine free and clear. "

"Sharp business decision; it sounds like your sitting pretty." Catherine commented.

"I am. I've made some good investments and as long as I don't become a show off I'll be fine for life."

"You; become a show off?" Catherine asked wryly.

"My grandmother says that a person can only legitimately use so much money. The rest…" Heather smiled her trademark 'cat that swallowed the canary' smile. "The rest is just for showing off."

"I think I like your grandma." Catherine smiled. "So…do you miss the job?"

"No. I'm too busy to miss it."

"Doing what?"

"Going back to school, and keeping up with a precocious soon-to be-three year old."

Catherine's eyes suddenly got very big. "You're what?"

Heather sighed. "I see Grissom failed to mention why I closed the business."

Catherine gave her head an incredulous nod. "Soooo…you...you…what? Had a baby?"

Heather covered her mouth with her napkin, to smother the laughter that bubbled up in her throat. "No; she's my granddaughter, Allison. She was born a few weeks before Zoë's death. Gil found mention of her in Sneller's journal. It took a while to find her. She was in the care of Clark County's Child Welfare Department."

Heather I know this is unpleasant to say the absolute least; but I know about Zoë's case. Is Allison alright?"

Heather gave a sad smile in appreciation for the tenderness in the strawberry blonde's voice, and then, by way of reply, reached for her purse, withdrew her wallet, opened it and passed it to Catherine.

Catherine reached across the table wit a mix of curiousity and uncertainty, but once he had the wallet she understood why at once. Inside; protected under plastic film, she found a photo of a sandy-haired little girl with an inquisitive happy face who was sitting in Heather's lap on a lush green lawn and staring in awe at the bubbles her grandmother was blowing through a child's bubble wand.

"Heather, she's beautiful." Catherine admired the photo for a moment longer and then handed the wallet back to Heather; who then tucked it away and returned her purse to its previous spot under her chair before speaking again.

"Her pediatrician says that she is fine; normal, healthy, and happy."

"Thank God for that." Catherine said more as a relief than as a piece of advice.

"I do; every day. Now…what do you do in your spare time?"

"When; you mean the four hours out of twenty-four when I'm not caring for my daughter or working a Vegas crime scene?"

"Yes, what do you do then?"

"Heather that's when I do a very frivolous thing." Catherine joked.

"Oh, do tell!" Heather played along even though she was certain she knew the answer.

"I sleep!" Catherine declared with gusto.

"I figured," Heather chuckled. "Hey! Let's find out if this place has ice cream." She suggested.

"Okay, let's do." Catherine smiled perking up even more.

Heather made eye contact with the young girl behind the counter, and Catherine marveled at the power her lunch companion wielded so effortlessly. Heather didn't speak one word; just simply made eye contact with the girl and she immediately stopped what she was doing, walked across the room, and delivered a quiet "Yes Ma'am?"

I don't suppose my friend and I could get a couple bowls of ice cream; could we?"

"Well, Tony does keep some in the back freezer, but he doesn't sell it to the customers Ma'am."

Catherine watched Heather silently hold the girl's gaze. After a few seconds of silence the young lady gave in and, to Catherine's ears she sounded apologetic rather than annoyed. "Your choices are really limited; chocolate or vanilla, that's it."

"Chocolate." Both women answered in unison.

When she left to get their treats Catherine asked, "How do you do that?"

Heather gave her a slight smile, and lifted one shoulder in a shrug as she brought her tea cup to her lips. "It's not usually difficult. Most people want to please other people."

"Now, you wanted to ask me something?" Heather prompted.

"Yes. I wanted to know if you and Grissom are eh- involved with each other?"

"Have you asked Grissom this question Catherine?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because Heather, it doesn't matter what the answer to the question is. Whether it's yes or no; if I ask him he'll only find a way to reply without actually answering. He makes me crazy the way he does that."

When Catherine saw the barest hint of a smile play at the corners of Heather's mouth she grinned. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. You've seen him do it too."

"I have; more than a few times." Heather took a deep breath before continuing, "My father is a die-hard Marine Corps General, and let me tell you Catherine; General Howard Harper could learn a thing or two from Gil Grissom when it comes to the fine art of evasive maneuvers."

Uncontrollable laughter erupted from Catherine's mouth. She tried without much success to quell it when the young woman delivered their ice cream, and began to giggle slightly herself even though she had no idea what had tickled Catherine's funny bone. As her laughter began to die down she smiled at the girl who had returned to her post behind the counter. "Laughter is contagious I guess."

"It is." Heather concurred stifling the last of her own laughter with a spoonful of ice cream. Catherine watched her close her eyes and savor the sweet treat. When she opened them again she smiled with a sigh and announced "There, that's better."

Heather caught the amused quizzical look in Catherine's eyes. "Chocolate makes anything just a little bit better. Chocolate is a 'band-aid' no matter what they say."

"Words to live by." Catherine agreed taking a bite of her own. "Hey." She said suddenly; her eyes first going wide, and then narrowing suspiciously, "You never really answered my question about you and Grissom. Is he rubbing off on you?"

A tiny smile teased at Heather's lips. "Yes. We're spending time with each other." She confirmed.

"I guessed as much when you showed up two months ago at the hospital after Warrick was shot and then a few days later at the funeral. I just wanted to hear one of you confirm it…and Heather… I was embarrassed that you received such a cold reception there."

"You all weren't cold. You were grieving, and I suspect you still are." She said eyeing the strained quality of Catherine's face."

Catherine nodded. "God, I miss him."

"You aren't the only one."

"He never talks about it."

"Yes, Catherine, he does."

"Really; Gil talks to you about Warrick?"

Heather watched her lunch companion and nodded as shock gave way to acceptance in her eyes.

"Well good; I'm glad he talks to someone. I worry about him."

"And he worries about you too Catherine; and Nick, and Greg, and Brass, and Riley, and Archie, and Wendy, and Dave, and Al, and even David Hodges. Although, it seems he worries about Hodges for an entirely different set of reasons." Heather confided.

Catherine smirked, "Don't we all? I swear Heather sometimes I honestly think he's in love with Grissom."

Before Heather could form a reply she hurried on. "It's nice to know he talks about us. Thank you for telling me that. It means a lot. What did you want to ask me?"

"Ten days ago, Gil informed me that he intends to take me somewhere nice for my birthday. We hadn't exchanged birthday information with each other, and I was surprised that he even knew my birthday was near. That is, I was surprised for all of two seconds, until I thought about it and realized that as many dealings as I've had with CSI over the years, I'm bound to have a file there somewhere. So, obviously, he just looked it up. Since he went to the trouble to research it; I didn't want to just come right out and ask him when his is. Can you help me out here?"

"Oh boy, am I glad we bumped into each other. Heather, his birthday is the 17th. When's yours?"

"Oh good Heavens! Really? Mine's the 24th and I guess my shopping isn't done yet today after all."

"Given the dress shop I saw you leaving I guess you were looking for a dress for whatever he's planning?"

No, I'm not looking for a dress. I was in for a fitting. I went into Derek's the day after he mentioned our going out because I couldn't find anything at the other places I shop that I wanted. All Gil will tell me is that formal attire is required. The last formal gown I purchased I wore to a function I attended with Dad. It's entirely wrong to wear for a birthday celebration out with Gil. So, I decided to treat myself by calling on Derek, and having a dress made. There are just a few minor changes to make now. It will be ready in time. All I have to do now is figure out what to get him for his birthday; and fast."

"Relax; Gil is easy to buy for. Even if you have absolutely no idea what to get him, you can't go wrong with a bug or a book about bugs."

Heather laughed at what she knew was the truth and stood up slowly from her chair; wishing she could linger a while longer as she picked up the check from their table.

"I hate to Catherine, but I've got to run. I'll take care of the check. Can we do this again some time?"

Catherine nodded enthusiastically. "I'd love to."

"Great; thanks for the company. Just ask Gil for my number when you're free to meet. "


	5. Chapter 5

Scene 5

August 14, 2008 (Evening)…

Gil was at his desk completing paperwork when he looked up to see Catherine coming through the door wearing an 'I know something' smile.

He turned his eyes back to his work as she closed his office door and walked over to place her palms on the edge of his desk leaning in close to see what he was working on. Without looking up he asked, "What's on your mind Catherine?"

"What'd you do this afternoon before coming in?" she asked trying a little too hard to sound casual.

"I slept. And…what'd you do Cath?" He asked pointedly while he silently wondered where this chat was leading.

He didn't have to wait too long to find out.

"I had lunch with your girlfriend." She said matter-of-factly and waited with baited breath for his response. For a second there was no reply at all, and she resisted the urge to drum her fingernails on his desktop.

Then from behind the page he held came; "Did you two ladies enjoy yourselves?"

Catherine was momentarily stunned, and then, catching him completely off guard, she gently tugged the page from his grasp, leaned forward, and kissed his cheek.

"Hey; what was that for?"

"That…was for not denying that you have a girlfriend."

"Catherine… not volunteering information and lying are to different things. I may not voluntarily discuss Heather, or our relationship, but I won't deny it either."

"Good, I'm glad to hear that because, yes we had a nice time and I like her Griss. Be good to her. She's good for you. Where are you taking her?"

"I'm…taking her somewhere?"

"For her birthday; you dope."

"Oh… Oooh no; that is supposed to be a surprise for her. I'm not telling you so that you can run and tell her." Gil shook his finger at her and grinned. "Nice try though."

"Aww, c'mon Gil," Catherine pleaded "I won't tell…I promise." She flashed him her best 'I'm innocent as can be' look. "She told me to get her number from you when I was free to do lunch again. You don't have to give it to me until after the big day if you want, but I promise I'm not acting on her behalf…as a snoop."

"Here." He jotted down the number on a note pad, tore out the page and handed it over.

"Really? You're just going to hand it over that easily? She eyed him curiously.

He shrugged. "I believe that you aren't being a snoop. If you were; my refusing to supply you with the number wouldn't stop you from contacting her anyway, and…I'm still not telling you."

"Well alright." Catherine said sounding dejected. She turned to leave; her fishing expedition was over. Once at the door she leaned on the frame and added a parting comment. "Gil, wherever you are taking her, I hope it's some place extravagant. I got the feeling talking to her that she's really excited. She said it's a formal event and…she's even having her dress custom tailored for the occasion.

Gil's mouth dropped open.

Catherine smiled flirtatiously. "My guess is, knowing Heather, it's black, elegant, and…stunning."

With those final words Catherine was gone; leaving her boss alone with the image of Heather in a sleek black evening gown heating up his mind and his body.


	6. Chapter 6

Scene 6

August 15, 2008…

Heather buttered her toast and sighed with mild discontent. Gil couldn't join her for breakfast. He was still at the office. It was just as well; she'd driven all over town yesterday afternoon looking for what she felt would be a suitable birthday gift for him, and hadn't found a thing. He loved books, but for her first gift to him she thought a book sounded rather impersonal. He loved classical music and opera, but she hadn't studied his music collection well enough to commit to memory what he had or didn't have. She thought about Catherine's suggestion that she buy him a bug and discarded that notion too.

Heather wasn't afraid of bugs, or even squeamish about them, it was just that she simply didn't know much about them. She didn't really think about them that much; hadn't since she was a child, and although she had been a tomboy the only bugs that really got her attention back then were ladybugs and fireflies except for the occasional worm or cricket if she were going fishing with her dad.

Yesterday while at the mall looking for a gift for him, she'd actually stopped at the exotic pet store just to browse but one look at the teen behind the counter; with his acne covered face and the lack luster expression in his eyes, told her that the little she knew about bugs was more than he ever would. Therefore, there was no way she could rely on him to assist her in making an informed purchase.

She sat down at the breakfast bar with her tea and toast, and flipped open her newest World Travel magazine with a disgusted sigh. A few seconds later she reached for her toast while half-heartedly scanning an article about the wine country in California. She'd been to various cities in California; even lived in a few of them briefly as a child. On her eleventh birthday her dad and grandmother had given her one of the most memorable gifts she had ever received.

Heather smiled broadly at the direction her thoughts had taken and dropped her toast back onto its plate without ever having taken a bite. She left the bar to go and place a few calls. One of those calls was to Information. She hoped Catherine Willows' number was listed. It was; as luck would have it. Next she hoped she'd catch the woman Gil worked with before she got to bed for the day. After speaking to Catherine, who was only on her way to bed but not quite there yet, Heather made a few more calls. By the time she hung up the phone and returned to the kitchen, Gil's gift had been purchased, reservations had been made, and her breakfast had gone completely cold. She poured herself a fresh cup of tea and ate her cold toast quickly. She had a lot to do today if she was going to pull off her plans.


	7. Chapter 7

Scene 7

August 17, 2008 8:06 AM…

Grissom shrugged into his rain coat, ready to leave work for the day. He was nearly to his office door when Catherine popped her head in. "You got a minute Gil?"

"For you; I've got two. What's up Cath?"

"I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday." She said handing him a manila envelope with a blue gift ribbon affixed to it.

He eyed her curiously for a moment and then opened the envelope. Inside he found a request for a three day leave for himself starting immediately after his shift ended this morning. It was filled out in Catherine's neat handwriting and already approved by Conrad Ecklie; All Grissom had to do was sign his name. In addition there was a note saying that Ecklie had also approved the transfer of three of Catherine's accrued vacation days to him. Therefore, he wouldn't have to dip into his own leave in order to take the approved days. He looked at Catherine with suspicion. "Either you forgot my birthday and then remembered at the last minute this morning, or you are trying to get rid of me. Which is it?"

She gave him an uneasy smile. "Okay, you caught me. I forgot. I'm sorry. This was the best I could come up with after getting here last night empty-handed."

"It's a very generous gift Cath, but you don't have to give up your own leave time."

"It's already done Gil. Don't refuse it please. Take a nice three day vacation. Enjoy yourself. I'll handle things here."

Grissom thought it over for all of a second. "Okay, I accept. I have a new book about blow flies I haven't had time to read. Maybe I'll do that." He declared while signing the paperwork and deciding to drop it in Ecklie's in box on his way out of the building.

Catherine gave him an odd smile. "Okay. Let me know if that book is any good. That is; if you find any time for reading this weekend. See ya Monday Boss."

She was gone before he had time to wonder about the comment.


	8. Chapter 8

Scene 8

When Grissom pulled into the driveway of his townhouse in Henderson he was pleasantly surprised to find Heather's Mercedes parked there and the lady herself seated on the top step of his porch waiting for him with a book in her lap. She placed a book mark between two pages as he climbed out of his vehicle.

"Hi. Have you been here long?" He asked as he walked to the steps and extended a hand to her.

"No, I just got here." She said accepting his hand and coming to her feet.

He took a moment to look her over. Long dark hair flowing loose around her shoulders, vivid green eyes, a tempting mouth, a slender frame clad all in black today. She was wearing a silk camisole under an open blouse made of some gauzy material he couldn't identify. The skirt that hung to a point just above her knees was probably silk as well, and draped in an outer layer of the same gauze-like material as her blouse. She, of course, wore her favorite knee high leather boots with this ensemble, and finished it off with the black opal pendant that hung on a gold chain around her neck. He knew that this particular piece of jewelry had once been her mother's and although it was a fine piece of jewelry, the sentimental value she attached to it made it worth far more to her than any monetary value it had. He thought, not for the first time, about how beautiful she was; built petite like her paternal grandmother; only a good six inches taller than the old lady that he had come to think of as the human embodiment of a force of nature. Like her grandmother, she was raw power wrapped in the delicate form of woman; a triumphant symphony of contradictions and although he could stand in this spot and admire her form endlessly, it was her eyes that captured the better part of his attention this morning. They were sparking with amusement; partly because she knew exactly what he was thinking, but there was something more today. Something more that he couldn't quite decipher.

On the one hand, she looked like the temptress she truly was, and on the other, the excitement that glittered in her eyes gave her a child-like quality that he'd rarely seen before.

He wondered if he'd ever really figure this woman out and then decided that if he spent the rest of his life with her and if he lived to be a hundred and four that would give him another fifty-two years to try. He doubted he'd succeed, but damn he could have fun trying.

"To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?"

She smiled a sweet smile that made his insides quiver and shrugged one shoulder as if she'd decided to stop by on a whim but then she wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear. "Happy birthday Gil." She relaxed her hold just enough to lean back and look him in the eye.

"I should have guessed you knew it was today when I first saw you sitting here." He leaned in to kiss her and received the most chaste kiss she'd ever given him; their lips barely touching before she pressed her palms into his chest and pushed back gently.

He frowned, cocked his head to one side, and was on the verge of asking what was wrong when she smiled and whispered, "Let's go inside. Your neighbor across the street is watching us through her front window."

He nodded, led her across the porch, unlocked his door, and pushed it open allowing her to enter first after taking a quick look inside to see that nothing was amiss. He closed the door behind himself and before he could speak he found himself wrapped tightly in her embrace with her mouth against his.

He surrendered to the kiss; to her. He closed his eyes and every thought drifted away except for the ones that pertained to her. She kissed him until he heard himself groaning and felt his hands moving, as if of their own volition, trying to find their way beneath her blouse.

Suddenly, and completely without warning, she broke the kiss with a startled yelp.

That sound coming from her at that precise moment perplexed him; nearly frightened him. He pulled back quickly and realized what had evoked such a response from her.

Hank had heard them come in and had come to meet them without either of them having been aware of his approach as their attention had been only for one another. The big dog stood on his hind legs behind Heather; his fore paws on her shoulders, and he was licking the back of her neck in a deliriously happy greeting.

Grissom groaned in frustration as Heather complained, "Hank, stop Boy that tickles! Gil, please call off your dog." She squirmed trying to free herself from Hank's overzealous display of affection.

"Hank! Down! Now!" Grissom scolded.

Hank immediately dropped to his belly and did his best to look pitiful with wagging tail and pleading eyes.

Heather stepped away from Gil and glanced down at the dog smiling which Hank took full advantage of by letting out the most pathetic whimper Gil had ever heard.

Heather took pity on the dog and leaned down to pat his head and rub him behind the ears the way she knew he liked. "I know big guy, I love you too, but…" she hiked her thumb in Gil's direction, "I don't even let him lick the back of my neck. That's just…ewww!" She shivered at the thought alone.

Gil chuckled. "All the things that you had to have witnessed while running a fetish house, and that's the one and only time I have ever seen you wrinkle your nose in disgust."

Heather shot him a stern look; "Well I'm sorry if it disappoints you, but that is just…yuck…and it tickles too."

"And it isn't just Hank's licking you object to, but even mine?" He inquired with a wicked gleam in his blue eyes.

"It's just the back of my neck."

He watched in amusement as she trembled again in revulsion.

"Don't ask me why. I can't explain it. Any other part on my body you feel inclined to explore with your mouth is just fine, but you will stay away from the back of my neck… unless you feel like sleeping alone."

"And if I don't feel like sleeping alone?" he asked pulling her back into an embrace.

She pushed gently against the wall of his chest. "Let me go Gil. It's a good thing Hank interrupted when he did; we were getting carried away."

"What's wrong with that?" He asked with a lazy grin, but let her go anyway; simply because she'd asked him to.

"It would have messed up my plans for your birthday. Now you go fix yourself a quick breakfast while I go upstairs and pack your bags."

"I can't think of a better way to spend my birthday than in bed with you, so unless your plans include… wait, did you say 'pack my bags'?"

"I did."

"Why; where are you taking me?"

She glazed his way with a care-free shrug. "Well we don't have to leave. If you'd rather go upstairs…"

"Woman, where are you taking me?"

"I'm taking you out for dinner Gil."

"Dinner…but Heather it's…Oh, I don't know. What time is it?"

"It's 8:41 A.M." She said without taking her eyes away from his face to look for a clock.

"First of all; how do you do that? And second; it's too early for dinner."

"First, the truth is, I don't know how I do it. I've been able to since I was twelve; that's all I know. Second… did I forget to mention that we're having dinner in Temecula?"

His jaw dropped. "We're going to Temecula, California for dinner?"

She hummed an affirmative answer, "Umm hmm; you go get a bite to eat and I'll go pack for you."

As she headed up the stairs a thought occurred to him. "You're assuming I'm off tonight Heather."

She stopped mid-way up the stairs and glanced back at him; giving him one of her 'I've got you right where I want you' smiles "No. I'm not assuming anything Gil. You are off tonight. In fact you are off until Monday night."

She left him standing right where he was; rooted to the floor, in stunned silence.

After a long moment he moved toward the kitchen; shaking his head as he went. At least now Catherine's comment about his not having any time for reading this weekend made sense. She was aware of Heather's plans; whatever they were, and had conspired to make them happen. There once was a time, not so long ago even, that the thought of those two women working together to manipulate his weekend would have made him highly uncomfortable, but as he thought of the woman upstairs packing his suitcase he realized that she wasn't taking him all the way to California just for dinner. If all she had planned was dinner, there were plenty of nice places right here in Vegas for that, and she wouldn't need the whole weekend either. There was definitely more to her plans than just dinner and knowledge of that fact gave him a rush of anticipation akin to the one he felt when he climbed into the seat of a rollercoaster that he'd never ridden before.


	9. Chapter 9

Scene 9

Grissom stared out at the rain-slick pavement as she drove. The rain had started while she was packing his bags, and had just stopped only moments before and the overcast sky was beginning to clear.

He suddenly wondered where they were headed. They'd made it to McCarran airport, but he assumed she would park in long-term parking since she obviously had made plans for the entire weekend. However, she had bypassed the main building and was headed toward the rear of the property where small privately owned or leased hangars could be found.

He turned to ask why they'd driven back there instead of going to the long-term parking garage, but before he could give voice to his inquiry she smiled and pointed ahead of them to one of the hangars. He sat in stunned silence as she drove through the wide bay doors, and he stared through the windshield in absolute wonder at the sleek, mid-sized jet before them.

The aircraft's name was stenciled onto the fuselage in a bright cobalt colored flourish; "Lucy."

Before he realized it had happened Heather parked her SUV to one side of the hangar far away from the plane, climbed out, and was shaking hands with a tall man in a dark suit.

"It's good to see you again Tom." She said smiling warmly. "This is Dr. Gil Grissom. He will be joining us this weekend…" She glanced back at Grissom with a teasing smile and said to Tom with a slight lilt in her voice, "At least I think he will; if he can bring himself to get out of the car."

He did get out of the car after another second or two and moved to the back of the vehicle to help Heather and Tom transfer their luggage from the Mercedes to the plane's cargo hold. He took time to introduce himself and apologize for his stunned silence. Shaking the other man's hand he repeated Heather's introduction, "Gil Grissom; sorry, she said we were taking a trip, she neglected to mention all this." He said while gesturing to the plane and the hangar around them.

"Tom Havard; doesn't surprise me that she forgot to mention it. Miss Heather likes to keep people guessing." He stated; giving Heather a slight nod.

"That she does." Grissom concurred shaking his head and grinning at Heather as he picked up two of their bags. "That she does."

As they walked to the plane and stowed away luggage Heather informed him, "Gil, Tom is our pilot. Be nice and maybe I'll sweet talk him into letting you visit the cockpit."

Twenty-five minutes later Grissom felt the plane lift from the ground and they were on their way. Five minutes after that Heather released her seatbelt and went over to release the latch on the door of the large kennel that held Hank. "Come on out Hank; it's safe now."

Hank stayed where he was even when Heather offered him a doggie treat. She patted his head and left the door of the kennel open so he could venture out if he chose to, and returned to her seat.

"He's never flown before to the best of my knowledge." Gill offered.

"I figured as much. That's why I thought use of the kennel would be good for takeoff and for landing too; just in case he gets exceedingly nervous. He's handling it well though; I think he'll adjust." She reached into the pocket of her raincoat that was now draped over the seat next to her and extracted another treat and tossed it to a place on the floor half way between them and the large kennel. Hank eyed it longingly, but stayed flat on his belly.

"What will we do with him once we get to…wherever we're staying?"

"Accommodations have been made for Hank as well," was all she said in reply as she smiled at him from her place in the leather seat facing his.

He stared at her thoughtfully and after a long moment she raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"You have a question Gil?"

"I have more questions than I'll have time enough to ask before this plane lands in California."

Well then, just relax and enjoy yourself. We have all weekend. You don't have to ask all of them in the next hour. Do you?"

She watched him struggle with his curiosity for a long moment, and then she sighed and asked, "What's your first question?"

He gestured to the space around them, "Is this yours? Please don't tell me you chartered a plane just to go to dinner."

"Lucy is ours for the weekend; not just today Gil."

"Still… It's too much Heather; too extravagant."

"Will it put you at ease if I tell you that acquiring Lucy for this trip didn't cost me more than a plate of food?"

He didn't know whether to chuckle, or be suspicious so he wound up doing both. "How did you manage that?"

"She belongs to an old friend of mine. I called him; explained that your birthday was today, that I wanted to take you away this weekend and asked if I could borrow Lucy for the trip. He said yes…in exchange for an invitation to Christmas dinner at my place this year, which was rather ridiculous on his part, because he knows very well that he is always welcome at my dinner table; Christmas or any other night of the year."

"An old client of yours; I'm assuming."

Heather smiled deviously, "No Gil… Cal was never a client at the Dominion." She rose from her seat, crossed the cabin and opened an overhead compartment. She came back to him holding two gift wrapped packages, a letter-size envelope and a moderately sized square box that turned out to be very heavy when she lowered it onto his lap. Before sitting back down in her seat again she ran her fingers through his hair and kissed him gently on the mouth.

After she was seated again he stared first at her, and then at the stack of gifts in his lap. For a moment he just sat there and continued starring until he heard the musical note of her laughter floating on the air. When he raised an eyebrow she asked, "Are you going to open them, or just sit and admire the wrapping paper?"

He leaned forward setting all of them on the floor carefully, and then picked up the envelope first. It was a plain white envelope that had been written on with bright red crayon. The child-like handwriting across the front read 'Happy Birthday Mr. Gil; From Allison'. He stared at it and then looked at Heather.

"I knew she was learning some letters already, but I didn't think she was this good yet."

"It took a lot of coaching. She made me write down what she wanted to say. Then she practiced copying it for almost an hour before she finally wrote on that envelope. She wouldn't let me write it for her. I offered, but she was adamant about the fact that she was going to do it herself."

Upon hearing those words Grissom took great care to open the envelope without damaging it. Inside he found a printed page with a picture of a ladybug on it that Allison had obviously colored herself. He laughed; amused and more than a little curious about her choice of color. The bug's body was red, her antennae and feet were black, but each individual spot on her body was a different color of the rainbow.

"Well…here's one I haven't seen before." He smiled up at Heather.

"She did it the night before last. Jerome came to get her earlier than expected and wound up staying for supper because she refused to leave until it was done. When she colored the first spot blue, he complained to her that she was doing it all wrong; that the bug's spots were supposed to be black. For a moment she looked panic-stricken; I thought she'd burst into tears. She pouted and asked me if it was wrong. I told her that it was her gift to you and she could make the bug's spots any color she chose, so after that, I think she chose a different color for each spot just to demonstrate her creativity; or maybe just to irritate her grandfather! Of course, this all happened after hunting for just the right picture to begin with." Heather laughed at the memory of the search.

"Oh; was that difficult for some reason?"

"She overheard me mention your birthday to Zelda that afternoon as Zelda was leaving. She got very excited and wanted to go and get you a gift. I suggested she go find her coloring books and pick out a page to color for you. She hurried upstairs and came back down with an armful of books and begged for the crayons…"

Grissom interrupted, "She doesn't keep them with the coloring books?"

Heather shook her head at his lack of understanding. "Gil, she's a pre-schooler. If she had ready access to crayons she'd attempt to draw murals on every wall in the house. If I keep them put away; out of her reach, she has to ask for them and then I know she has them and can supervise."

"She wouldn't do that."

Heather rolled her eyes. "Why do you think she wouldn't… because she's so sweet? I seem to recall a conversation earlier this year; the day before her third birthday I believe… I was describing her and I said, "She is her mother. You contradicted me; telling me, "She's you."

"Yes; I remember that conversation, and I stand by what I said."

"Gil, When I was seven…"

She paused and the smile that played across her lips let him know that she was about to inform him of some wicked childhood adventure she'd had.

"…A friend of my mother's, who had no experience with children, bought me an artist's paint set because I had seen a man painting on a canvas and thought it was fascinating. The set came with two small canvases, and when I had painted both of those…well… I painted other things."

He grinned at her. "Let me guess; you painted the walls too?"

"Hmm… not just the walls. I also painted Turpentine."

He stared at her baffled. "You painted turpentine?"

"Yes; I did Gil. Turpentine was the name Nana Zoë had chosen for her pet cat since he was solid black. Only… I thought he'd be prettier if he were purple."

"You painted your grandmother's cat!"

"Umm hmm… purple." Heather shrugged straight-faced while threw back his head and laughed.

When his laughter subsided enough to allow for speech he queried, "I'm guessing the paint set went in the trash after that?"

"Yes it did… and my mother refused to let me out of my room for the rest of spring break week. I think it was a Thursday. I was in agony until she let me out Monday morning when it was time to go back to school. They sent Turpentine to the groomer's for a bath because Nana Zoë was worried he'd lick the paint off himself and get sick. The groomer charged double the usual price because of the extent of the mess. Dad made me pay for his trip to the groomer's with money from my allowance for the next three months. Mama was livid because he ran through the living room and left little purple kitty paw prints all over the floor." She chuckled at the memory.

"The only person who wasn't mad at me was my grandfather. He howled with laughter; getting dirty looks from everyone else. I still remember him saying 'Oh, leave Heather alone. Look at her! There's not a scratch on her. If that damn cat was stupid enough to stand there and let her paint him, then he deserved what he got!' Nana loved that cat. After his comment I think Papa slept on the couch for two nights."

"Heather!" He laced his fingers together in front of his belly and laughed at the tale. "You were a handful; weren't you? Maybe you're right. You should definitely hide crayons from Allison."

"I do; unless I have time to sit and watch her. Anyway…what was I saying before I digressed into 'The Misadventures of Young Heather'?

He thought for a moment. "She came back downstairs with an armful of coloring books and asked for the crayons…"

"Yes and then she set about searching each book; looking for just the right picture. After several minutes she said we needed to go to the store. I asked why and she said that she didn't have any bugs in any of her books. I didn't have time to go out and I wanted to avoid a temper tantrum, so I told her that the store was closed."

"She didn't miss a beat. She looked up at me and asked, 'Nana is the internet closed too?'

"After I finished laughing, I went and typed 'coloring books' into a search bar and up came hundreds of sites, so I picked the first one, and typed 'bugs' into that site's search bar. After that I let her choose from the options and printed the one she chose. Shortly after she picked the one you are holding. Jerome showed up to get her and the rest you know."

"All that just for a picture?"

"Yes. This was very important to her Gil. Then…it was yesterday when I was wrapping one of those other gifts that she climbed up on the stool to watch and then told me she wanted to 'wrap' hers too. So I gave her the envelope and told her she could put it inside that. That satisfied her until I started writing on the gift tag. Then she wanted to make sure she followed suit with her gift as well."

He stared down at the brightly colored picture in his hands. "After all that I should have this framed."

"It'll make her day if you just stick it on the front of your refrigerator."

"Okay, but you have to bring her over so she can see it there"

Heather's only reply was to stare at him quietly.

"What?"

"You want me to bring her over to your place? Are you sure about that Gil?"

He stared back. "Yes; I'm sure. Is there some reason why you shouldn't?"

"How many people have you invited over in the last three months Gil?"

He didn't have to think about his answer, "One; you."

"That's what I thought. You don't like having people in your personal space Gil, and if you find adults bothersome; let me assure you an inquisitive three year old will stretch you to the limit; especially when she sees all your bugs and terrariums."

"You think it'll scare her?" He frowned.

She leaned forward in her seat, reached out, and gently took hold of his hand. "That isn't what I meant. Nothing about you, or your hobbies, will frighten her. Allison will have a million questions, and she'll want to look at, and touch everything."

"You really think so?" he was still frowning, but the frown on his face was no longer one born of fear. It had become one that was accompanied by concentration."

"I know so, Gil and I'm surprised you mentioned bringing her by, knowing how you feel about having people over."

"Bring her by sometime after this weekend. I'll hang her picture. She can look at the terrariums. It's okay with me.

Heather was more touched by his words than she could say so she simply nodded.

He studied her face. "Hey, you okay?"

"Yes. Just surprised."

To change the subject she picked up a small gift from the stack at his feet and handed it to him. "Here; open another one."

He looked at the tag on the small package she'd selected. What he saw there surprised him.

"Gil' was written in a neat script that he recognized at once although the gift giver hadn't bothered to sign her name. "This is from Catherine."

He shot Heather a confused look.

"Yes; that was what she intended to give you, before I phoned her and asked for help to get you away from the office. She agreed to help even though she'd already gotten you that. Allison and I picked it up at her house yesterday afternoon and then drove out to the airport, because when I told Allison that she couldn't join us for this trip she asked if she could at least see the plane so I drove her out and left the gifts here last night."

He opened the gift as he asked, "Did Allison like the plane?"

Heather chuckled nodding her head; "To get her off the plane last night without a tantrum, I had to promise to take her on the next flight. She wanted to sleep here last night.

"She wanted to spend the night here on the plane?"

"Yes she thought that would be fun. She's fascinated by planes; about six months ago I took her to the airport to pick Jerome up after a business trip. As soon as she saw him she asked him if he was ready to come home yet. Apparently she though he'd been at the airport the entire time he was away. When we realized what she thought, we took her to a window and let her watch a plane take off so she'd understand that he wasn't working at the airport. She's been enthralled with planes ever since."

Heather watched him push tissue paper aside, and lift a nice pair of charcoal gray leather gloves from the small box in his lap. He examined them, and slipped them on to test the fit.

He flexed his fingers. "They're a nice fit; and just in time too. My gloves were starting to look a bit worn."

He pulled them off and tucked them into the pocket of his rain coat. He picked up the last gift wrapped package and grinned at her. "What's in here?"

She shrugged mysteriously. "Something to keep you warm on all those cold desert nights when you're off at some crime scene."

He gave her his 'Grissom' stare and gave the box a gentle shake before tugging at the ribbon and tearing the paper away. Seconds later he lifted a leather jacket from the box and eyed it with appreciation while she studied his reaction. The black leather was soft, supple, and cool to the touch after having been stored in the overhead bin of the plane all night. He set the empty box aside and stood to try the jacket on. As he slipped into it he realized that there was a heavy inner lining for added warmth. Heather rose to her feet and stepped close smoothing the jacket across his shoulders, and tugging gently here and there; to appraise the fit. He zipped it closed, and checked the length of the sleeves.

She stepped back studying him from a greater distance. "You wear it well. Do you like it?"

"Yes I do; very much. Thank you."

"I'm glad you're pleased." she whispered coming in close so that he felt her breath on his neck as she tugged the jacket's zipper back down.

As she slid her hands slowly up his chest and over his shoulders, she licked her lips and the sight of her doing so left him barely aware of the fact that she had just removed the new jacket and tossed it onto a nearby seat. She gently pushed him back down into his seat, then lifted her skirt slightly as she straddled him.

In spite of the fact that his hands instinctive came to rest on her hips and fitted her body to his, he tensed slightly. "Heather, we aren't exactly alone up here. The pilot is just on the other side of that door." He inclined his head toward the door in question.

She smiled as she removed her blouse and tossed it away quickly. "Tom's isn't going to come back here Gil: he's a little busy flying the plane right now. As long as we're quiet he won't have a clue."

He started to speak again, but forgot whatever he was about to say when he felt her hand gently stroke him through the fabric of his slacks. When she nipped at the sensitive flesh below his ear and then licked the same spot, he forgot everything else.

Sometime later after his mind returned to normal function and he once again became aware of his surroundings, he placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head to rouse it from the place between his neck and left shoulder. At some point after their tryst had ended she'd repositioned herself to sit sideways across his lap, and cuddled close; allowing herself to be held. In response to the kiss she lifted her head and offered him a sleepy smile then stretched in his arms.

After a moment longer she spoke. "We should tidy up. We'll be landing soon."

"Okay, if we must." He whispered into her hair; realizing that he hadn't slept yet as he tried to stifle a yawn.

Before moving out of his embrace she glanced in the direction of the open kennel. Hank hadn't gotten brave enough to risk coming out during flight, but he had calmed enough to curl up and go to sleep.

"Hank has the right idea Gil. When we land, let's go check into our room and take a nap before venturing back out."

"Fine by me." He said smiling as she rose from his lap and smoothed her skirt back into place as she went to bolt the latch on the kennel door once more in preparation for the landing.

"They redressed and picked up the discarded wrapping paper and as Heather lifted the last piece from the floor she called out, "Gil you forgot to open the big heavy box."

"I did not forget. I was distracted." He raised an eyebrow of affect.

"Is that so?" she smiled playfully.

"Yeah… someone started undressing me… remember."

He sat down and she lifted the plain white box into his lap once more and then sat down herself; this time choosing the seat right beside his and propping her chin in her hand; watching him eagerly.

He recognized unabashed curiosity when he saw it, and her interest amused him. "Why so curious, don't you know what's in the box already?"

Her eyes went wide as she shrugged and shook her head. "That one's not from me. It was sitting in one of the seats when I boarded last night with Allison. Tom said it was from Cal; something to kick off your birthday celebration."

He opened the box and found another box inside it; this one wooden and adorned with a logo that caused him to blink twice. He stared for a moment and then opened the wooden box before asking "Louis Tres; Heather… why would a man I've never met send me a $600.00 bottle of brandy?"

Heather smiled slyly and shrugged. "Read the card."

Gil had overlooked the small envelope in his shock. She picked it up and handed it over to him then watched as he extracted and read the small card. After several seconds he glanced at her with a raised eyebrow and began to read out loud.

"Gil, any man Heather is willing to spend an entire weekend with; much less ask to borrow Lucy for the occasion, has to be someone worth getting to know. I hope to meet you soon. Best wishes for your birthday. Sincerely, Bruce Calvin."

He stared at Heather incredulously. "Bruce Calvin…as in Las Vegas's own software engineering multi-millionaire, Bruce Calvin?"

Heather nodded. "Yes that's the one." She smiled and shrugged as if this were nothing impressive.

"How do you know him?"

"How we know one another is something that we treat with a great deal of discretion Gil."

"You… did say he was never a client; correct?"

"Correct; let's just say he introduced me to someone you are very fond of."

"Okay; who?"

She looked him in the eye and arched one eyebrow perfectly. "Lady Heather."

Gil wrinkled his brow. "Come again."

She took hold of one of his hands and clasped it in both of hers. "Gil, I wasn't born a dominatrix. I may have been born with the right personality, may have always possessed the aptitude for it, but becoming a dominatrix is something that is learned; something that one is taught. It's a skill that one has to study to become good at."

"Okay, so what… this guy taught you how to be a dominatrix."

"In a manner of speaking, yes he did."

"How did that get started?"

"Well…we are about to land, and this is a conversation best saved for a different time, but you weren't entirely ignorant of the roles of domination and submission when we met. How did you learn?"

"Research; as needed for cases."

"Well, Cal and I were friends, and one day at his house I stumbled upon some of his toys. When I asked about them, he explained. That was how it began…"

Tom Havard's voice sounded over the intercom asking them to please fasten their seat belts for landing.

She smiled at Gil. "I'll fill the rest in later."


	10. Chapter 10

They landed at San Diego Airport and picked up their rental car; a sporty looking silver Lincoln that turned out to have a lot more trunk space than Grissom expected; which was good because between the two of them they has two overnight bags, two suitcases, and two hanging garment bags, plus a large duffel that had been packed full to meet Hank's needs for the trip. Grissom marveled at how much stuff was needed to get two people and a dog through a three-day vacation. Before setting out, Heather spread a blanket that she pulled from Hank's duffel over the back seat. Once she was through with the task, Hank hopped right in without any command to do so.

Once they were settled in their own seats, Grissom reached into the back seat and patted the happy dog's head. As Heather started the car, he informed her "Hank loves a car ride. He probably thinks this is a grand adventure."

She twisted in her seat before backing out of the parting space and rubbed Hank's nose while he licked at her hand. She looked first at the dog, and then at Gil and announced, "He's right. We are off on an adventure and hang on boys, because the fun has only just begun."

Five minutes into the drive from the airport he asked, "So where are we going, or won't you tell me now that we are actually in California?"

She glanced away from the road briefly to smile sweetly at him. "We'll be staying at The Churon Winery Bed & Breakfast in Temecula. It's about an hour drive from here so if you want to nap that's fine. The seats recline, and are heated also if you want to use that feature. Just make yourself comfortable."

"I'll wait until we get there. There's a B & B at the winery?"

"Yes; it's a French Chateau with sixteen rooms and six suites for guests. Pets are allowed as long as you have proper proof of vaccination. I took Hank's records from the file cabinet in your study. They are in his bag. The grounds are supposed to be magnificent. There are daily wine tastings for guests, tours of the winery, and a five course dinner on Friday, and Saturday nights. The real fun starts tomorrow though. Sorry, but I couldn't make it happen today on your actual birthday. My plans conflicted with our flight schedule."

"That's alright; I don't mind. Whatever you're planning I'd like to be awake for it, so tomorrow is good. Last night's case was no picnic."

She waited a moment to give him the chance to elaborate and when he chose not to she replied, "I thought you'd feel that way. I made reservations for us to have dinner there tonight, so we don't have to leave the chateau today at all if you don't want too. We can sleep, take a leisurely walk on the grounds, or a tour of the winery, then have dinner and go back to bed. We should get a good night's sleep though; tomorrow starts early for us.

"And…just what are your plans for tomorrow My Sneaky Little Abductress?"

"Uh-uh; I'm not telling. You'll have to wait and see."

"Alright, I guess I can live with that." He smiled, took hold of her right hand, kissed the back of it, and then placed it on top of his thigh. He laid his head back on the head rest and closed his eyes for a few moments. Then, when he opened them again, He exclaimed, "Hey look, what is that?"

Heather leaned forward in her seat, peering out the windshield and looking up in the direction he was pointing. When she realized what had caught his attention she smiled. "It's a sky diver, or…" She squinted, looking harder at what they saw."…a pair of divers actually; a tandem jump. Do you see that small plane a little further up? That's where they came from. The chute should open soon. They must be in the drop zone. There is probably a diving school not too far from here."

"Drop zone?" He asked as they watched the bright orange and yellow chute open.

"It's the targeted landing area for a skydiver." Heather explained.

"And…you know this how?"

"My dad has jumped a few times." She said being careful to keep an eye on the road while they watched the chute until it floated out of sight.

"You ever go with him?"

"No; not on a dive. He took me up in the plane with him once but wouldn't let me join him on the dive."

"Why not?"

"I was only ten. You have to be at least sixteen, and even then a parent has to give consent."

Grissom considered this. "That seems reasonable."

"I didn't think so at the time. I was furious with him. I demanded to know why he took me up in the plane at all if I couldn't jump out of it with him. He laughed and told me that most of the guys who dive routinely 'aren't quite right' and that there was no way he was going to leave me back at the hanger in the care of a skydiver who willing allowed himself to be nicknamed Catfish."

"Why was he called Catfish?"

Heather glanced away from the road for a second and flashed him a wide grin. "Because, he was 'all mouth and no brain'."

Grissom raised an eyebrow. "He understood the reason for the nickname and still owned up to it?"

"He did."

"I wouldn't have left you in his care either."

"It's true he wasn't bright, but he wouldn't have harmed me or let anything happen to me."

Grissom winked at her. I'm not worried that he would have hurt you; and I doubt that was your father's primacy concern either. I can just imagine you father returning to the hangar to find poor Catfish tied up tight in his parachute, and no sign of you. He'd go running out of the hangar just in time to see a plane lifting off the runway."

Heather glared at him and reached out and smacked his chest. "Hey, I was a good kid!" She declared.

"I didn't say you weren't, but… I'll bet you're responsible for every one of the gray hairs on his head."

"That's not possible." she said seriously with only a trace of indignation in her voice. "I do have a kid brother, remember?"

"Oh yes; I remember, but somehow I think his gray hair came from his eldest child."

She flashed him a stern look, but the scowl didn't quite reach her eyes. "You know we're still about forty-five minutes away by car." She stated casually.

"So…"

"So…do you want to walk the rest of the way? She hissed. "I'll give you the map and put you out." She smiled at him as if she were offering him another birthday gift.

"No thank you!"

"Then be nice to me. Or else…."

"Yes Ma'am." He said leaning over and brushing a quick kiss across her cheek.

She glared at him again, but her green eyes were laughing at him. "Do you want to stop for some lunch before we get there?" She asked to change the subject.

"I guess we should. What time is it?"

"It's 12:07 pm? Is your watch battery dead?" She questioned him with that all too familiar knowing expression on her face.

He grinned. "Nope; it just fascinates me to see you do that. When I first started spending time at your house, I noticed that I only found three clocks in the entire house. There's the one that came with the stove, one in the solarium, and the grandfather clock in the front parlor. The last two are more for décor than anything else. When I realized there was no alarm clock in your bedroom, I was seriously confused. I'm guessing that your ability to sense time comes from the same place as your ability to read people.

Heather smiled mysteriously and shrugged.

Before reaching their destination they stopped at a sidewalk café called Jessie's and ordered two BLT baskets and waters. While they ate, Hank lay at Heather's side and lapped noisily at the water in his bowl that she'd thought to bring from the car. When he'd had all he wanted, Heather extracted a small piece of bacon from her sandwich and offered it to him. He promptly inhaled the scrap, and sat rigid beside her, his eyes pleading for another morsel.

Grissom eyed him and chuckled, "You have complete control now. He'll do anything you ask."

"I'm aware of that." She stated flashing him a sultry look.

"Of course you are."

"The end of his leash is only secure under the leg of my chair. He could pull free and take off if he decided to, but he won't, not as long as there's a chance he'll be fed."

"Especially bacon; a pack of stray cats could walk by right now and he wouldn't blink twice."

She smiled at Hank. "Do you agree? You want to go find a kitty to chase?"

His gaze never left her sandwich.

"Good Boy; who wants to chase cats anyway?" She gave him another small strip.

Grissom suddenly realized how relaxed he felt. He was content for the first time all week. The day was sunny and peaceful and a warm breeze played through Heather's hair as he watched her feed his dog.

She noticed his gaze. "Yes?"

"Yes what?"

"You're staring Gil."

He shrugged, "Thank you for bringing me here."

"We aren't even there yet." She chuckled, while wiping her hands and mouth on a paper napkin.

"Doesn't matter Heather; I've had a wonderful time already."

"Sweetheart, you really should get out more." She said with a gentle laugh." Especially if all it takes to make you happy is an airplane ride and a sandwich."

He set his sandwich back down in its basket without taking a bite. "There's more to it than that. It wouldn't have been worth doing without you here with me."

In response she stared for a moment and then she silently stood, walked around the table, sat down across his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him.

When the kissed ended and she attempted to get up Grissom decided to ignore the curious stares of people on the sidewalk, pulled her back into his arms and kissed her again.


	11. Chapter 11

Scene 11

Heather found the sign marking their turn onto the grounds of the Churon Winery and B & B, and quietly handed Gil the map from under her visor that she had pulled up on the Internet early that morning before leaving to pick him up. She slowed to an appropriate speed as beneath the tires, the paved road became gravel, and then crushed shell. The winding path leading to the chateau offered a scenic view in secluded privacy. Brightly colored flowers, trees and shrubs were strategically planted to accentuate the lush landscape.

"According to this, the winery is just ahead on the left. The chateau is about two miles further, and behind it there's even a small pond." He offered her his hand as they took in their surroundings.

"It's beautiful here." She said, taking the hand he presented.

The house came into view and Gil cocked his head to one side and stared before he exclaimed, "It's octagonal."

"I thought you'd appreciate that." Heather said.

"What; you've been here before, then?"

"No, there were pictures on the website."

"How many rooms did you say?"

"Sixteen, plus six suites." She smiled patiently at his enthusiasm and handed him a print out of the brochure. He tucked the brochure in his shirt pocket as she pulled to a stop in front of the wide steps leading up to the front door. He got out and trotted around the front of the car to open her door, just as a young man in a dark blue blazer came out the front door pulling a luggage trolley to the edge of the top step and then descended the steps with his hand extended in greeting.

"Ms Kessler, I presume." He said smiling warmly.

Grissom watched the young man discreetly give her the once over; as he mentally undressed her. Gil resisted the urge to wrap his own possessive arm around her shoulders.

"You are correct." Heather shook his hand while she even more discreetly looked him over, although not for the same reasons as he had. Grissom had watched her do this far too many times since meeting her. He knew all too well that her appraisal was less about admiring the young man's physical form than it was about taking his measure. After her inspection was done, she'd be able to tell him even more about the man than his own brother knew.

"Dr. Grissom." He said extending his hand to him next. "I'm Jake and I'm here to make certain that you have anything you need while you're our guests. So let's get your luggage and get the two of you checked in."

While the two men unloaded the luggage and placed it on the waiting trolley, Heather let Hank out of the backseat, made sure his leash was secure, and let him stretch his legs for a bit.

When she joined them on the steps Jake squatted and said, "Hi there." to Hank. Hank sniffed him for a moment and then placed a paw in his outstretched hand. Jake laughed and shook hands. Next he rose to his feet and offered. "If you'll hand me your keys I'll be more than happy to park your car," As she was doing so he informed them, "Go on up to the front desk and ask for Miss Lily; she'll check you in."

Miss Lily turned out to be the owner of the establishment, and was a pleasantly plump sixty-something grandmotherly-type who fell in love with Hank the instant she saw him. Hank, being the intelligent fellow that he was, knew a good thing when he saw it; and reveled in her affection. After their check in business was complete, and Hank had been treated to not one but two large dog biscuits at Miss Lily's insistence, they finally made it to their room. Once the door closed securely behind them, Heather let Hank off his leash and watched him inspect the room for a moment. Once he decided his inspection was complete he walked directly to the large green dog pillow that was in one corner of the room and plopped down on top of it; effectively claiming it for his own.

Heather smiled up at Gil from her perch at the end of the bed and laughed. "Sure didn't take him long to make himself at home."

He chuckled with her. "Maybe I should get him one of those when we get back to Henderson."

She covered her mouth with the back of her hand and yawned.

"Is it nap time Fetish Girl?" He grinned.

"Mmm…I think that sounds heavenly Bug Boy." She playfully nudged his ribcage as she eased off the bed and slipped passed him to unzip her suitcase that was sitting on a collapsible luggage rack. "I think we can unpack later." She said as she extracted her insulin kit, and a black oversized silk shirt that she liked to sleep in. "Will you at least hang the things in our garment bags in the armoire while I'm in there?" she asked pointing at the bathroom door.

"Sure; go on in. I'll take care of it."

When she came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, he had put away all of their things, not just the things that needed to be hung, stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed. He lay on his left side with his head propped on his palm and watched her come toward the bed without saying anything at all. She flashed him a sleepy smile. "Is that bed comfortable?"

"It is."

"Good." She said eagerly, and climbed in under the sheet beside him pulling his arm around her as she snuggled in.

He pulled her even more tightly to his body and then draped the quilt over her as well. "What time is it?"

"1:32 P.M." She mumbled with a yawn and an amused half-smile.

"And, what time is dinner?" he muttered in inquiry.

"It's at 7:30."

"Wake me up at 6:40; okay?" He yawned and closed his eyes

"Umm hmm." She hummed turning in his arms long enough to give him a soft warm kiss. "Sweet dreams Gil," was the last thing he heard.


	12. Chapter 12

Scene 12

Later he woke to the feel of her soft lips barely caressing his mouth. He opened his eyes and blinked twice at the sight before him. In the dim light of the only lamp that burned across the room the vision of her made him think for a moment that he was still asleep and at the beginning of what promised to be a very sensual dream. She was perched on the edge of the bed leaning toward him. Her slim body was wrapped in a satin robe that matched the shade of her eyes perfectly and her eyes caught the faint light of the lamp and sparked with a mixture of mirth and desire. He allowed his eyes to roam taking in more. Her hair was loosely knotted on top of her head, and beads of moisture shimmered against her neck and cleavage.

"You've had a shower already." He observed his voice husky with sleep.

"I have, and I left the shower running for you." She declared before kissing him again. "Dinner is in an hour."

As she rose from the side of the bed he caught the sash of her robe and let it slip through his fingers. "You brought a dress the same color as this robe with you."

Heather thought for a moment and recalled that earlier he had hung their things while she changed for bed. "I did, yes and I also brought the classic little black dress."

He hesitated for a fraction of a second. "That one's pretty too."

She offered him a knowing smile. "You'd prefer the green dress?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "I'm curious to see you in it. It'll bring out your eyes."

She touched his cheek tenderly and for a moment he thought she'd kiss him again, but then with a sudden burst of enthusiasm she declared, "The green one it is then!" and went into the bathroom only to return two seconds later carrying the black dress folded over one arm.

As he watched she opened the wide double doors of the armoire, took out an empty hanger, hung the dress, put it away, and then extracted the green dress with a flourish. Holding it in front of herself, she walked back to the side of the bed as if she were a fashion model strutting down a catwalk in Milan. She grabbed the quilt and bed sheet and threw them off of him, and ordered, "Up…. Now; go shower before you loose all the hot water. Your suit's hanging next to the shower. I ironed it for you."

He raised an eyebrow. "You ironed my suit?"

She shrugged while examining her dress as if it might need going over with the iron as well. "It was wrinkled. It needed to be pressed; so I took care of it."

He cocked his head to one side and stared as he thought. He had learned by now that Heather was an accomplished cook, but found other household chores such as cleaning and laundry tedious. Which did not mean she was incapable, he knew, but he'd not miss the opportunity to tease her a little, because he also knew that she employed not only Zelda, her chef, but three different housekeepers who all came in once a week to keep her enormous house spotless "How domestic; did the Good Housekeeping fairy sneak in here and hit you over the head with her wand while I slept?"

She tossed her dress over the back of the nearby chair, and placed a palm flat on the mattress on either side of his hips and leaned down bringing her face inches away from his. "Gil… Go… Shower… Now!" She hissed. The fire in her eyes telling him that although she knew he'd only been teasing her, he'd best not continue on his present course.

"Okay… I'm going… now."

Heather moved the hand that was blocking his path and he slid off the bed and stepped quickly toward the bathroom. He stopped when he realized that their exchange had been witnessed. Hank gazed up at him from his big green pillow in the corner and thumped the floor with his tail twice.

"I should take him out first."

"He just came in less than an hour ago."

"You took him out already?"

"Yes, he took me for a walk around the pond, and then we played fetch. On our way back we bumped into Miss Lily and she invited us to the kitchen for a snack. I had a banana. Hank had a left over pork chop that she was about to throw away. Hank is going to visit with her while we eat supper. No dogs are allowed in the dining room unless they have service companion status, but somehow I don't think Hank will mind visiting the kitchen instead."

Can he be in the kitchen: won't he be in the way?"

"Not this weekend. Apparently we picked an uncommonly quiet weekend. We are one of only four couples here right now and only one other couple has dinner reservations for tonight, so the kitchen is a calm place right now. Only Miss Lily, a chef, and one waiter are in there, and Hank stole everyone's hearts. He's all set. Go shower, I'm hungry. The smells coming from the stove made my mouth water."

"I thought you ate a banana." He grinned.

"I did, and I want more. Dinner smells divine. So hurry up. Shoo, get going on that shower while I dress." She motioned with her hands to hurry him along.

He laughed at her enthusiasm. For such a slender woman she had an appetite that astounded him. "Alright, I'll be ready in twenty-five minutes. You won't starve to death in less than half an hour will you?"

"I'll try to survive." She grimaced and sighed as if he were asking for the impossible.

He winked and closed the bathroom door.

Twenty-two minutes later she tapped lightly on the door and slipped in without waiting for his invitation. He stood in front of the sink, staring in the mirror fussing with his tie.

She stared at his reflection from her place just behind his right shoulder and arched an eyebrow flirtatiously. "Having problems there?"

Gil frowned. "The knot is lopsided."

"Here… let me." She stepped close, placed her arms around his shoulders and deftly worked the knot in his tie loose. She placed the tie over the nearby towel rack, and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt. She rested her chin on his shoulder and smiled sweetly at the confusion evident in his reflection.

"It's a dinner date, not a board meeting. Besides, with tuxedos bow ties are a must, but if you ask me neckties are the most ridiculous clothing accessory ever created, and I firmly believe that they undeniably prove female intelligence is superior to male intelligence."

Gil wrinkled his brow and frowned at her reflection. "How do you figure that?"

She lifted one shoulder in a shrug, and straightened his collar. "Have you ever known a woman to start her day by tying a noose around her own neck?"

Gil turned in her arms and looked down into her eyes as he slid his arms loosely around her hips. He lightly smacked her on the bottom. "You're sassy as hell when your hungry, but you may have a point there."

He leaned back and looked her over. "I was right about the dress you look good enough to eat, and you are the only woman I know who wouldn't look silly in that style."

"What do you mean?"

"When I hung it, for a moment I thought it was crooked on the hanger. The way the skirt's cut longer on one side. Every time I see someone else wearing a similar skirt, I want to tell her it's lopsided, but you look stunning. If you still want dinner we better get going before I decide to haul you back to bed."

"You'll have to feed me first. I insist."

"Well then, come on Gorgeous."

Gil put Hank's leash on him; they left their room, and walked hand in hand to the elevator. Once inside, they found themselves alone and staring at their refection in the mirrored door. Heather smoothed her skirt and appraised the sight of them.

"Well, that's not bad." She tipped her head back onto his shoulder and smiled.

He glanced at their reflection for an instant and then smiled down at her up-turned face. "No, not bad at all." He whispered before pulling her back more firmly against him and claiming her mouth.


	13. Chapter 13

Scene Thirteen

Gil followed Heather's lead to the kitchen. The instant Hank saw Miss Lily he went running to greet his new friend.

"Well hi there big guy. Are you glad to see me, or do you just want another tasty treat?"

Hank whined; sitting before her with an air of eager anticipation in his posture.

Gil laughed. "Miss Lily please don't spoil him too much. He's never going to want to go home."

Heather glanced down at the dog. "I think it's already too late Gil."

"Oh no Hank; you will go home with Mom and Dad. My husband says if I bring home another dog he will file for divorce. We already have six."

Miss Lily smiled when Heather exclaimed, "Six?"

"Yes six; since we lost Kenny, my dogs are my babies." Before either Gil or Heather could reply she continued by addressing a staff member who was slicing lemon wedges at the counter. "Jill please show our guests to the dining room Dear."

Jill stopped her task at once and smiled at the couple. "Yes Miss Lily." She eyed Hank with mild concern. "Will he be upset when you leave?" She addressed Heather.

Heather chuckled. "First, he's Gil's dog. Gil was asleep when I brought him down earlier for his walk. Second…" Heather glanced at Hank. His unwavering attention was still on Miss Lily. "Somehow, I don't think he'll miss us at all."

Barely glancing up from the dog at her feet, the older woman waved dismissively.

Jill walked them out of the kitchen, down the hall, and through the wide double doors of the small dining room. She led them to a small table in a corner and waited quietly; smiling as Gil pulled Heather's chair out for her. Once he'd seated himself, she informed them, "Dinner is five courses starting with hors d'oeuvres, then clam chowder, followed by a green salad, an entrée of your choice, and finally dessert. The hors d'oeuvres and the dessert are always chef's choice, but Enrique takes great pleasure in surprising and delighting our guests. I guarantee it will be delicious. Each course is served with wine that is made right here in our own winery. I'll need to know if you prefer red or white."

Both Gil and Heather asked for red wine before she continued. "Your options for tonight's entrée are slow roasted prime rib or grilled red snapper. Each entrée comes with steamed veggies, boiled red potatoes, and a roll."

Gil glanced at Heather, silently signaling that she should order first.

"I'd like the grilled snapper please." She smiled.

Jill nodded and glanced in Gil's direction.

"The prime rib for me please."

"Very well, I'll be back right away with your hors d'oeuvres."

She left them then, and Heather surveyed first the table and then the room around them. Prior to their being seated the table was laid with fine ivory colored linen, polished silver, and chilled water glasses. The center piece was a shallow bowl shaped vase of red and pink roses. The room was beautiful without being opulent. The dimly lit wall lamps provided just the right amount of light; not so little that guests felt they were eating in the dark, and yet still dimmed enough to give the room a cozy romantic glow. The hardwood cedar floor was stained dark and polished. Potted plants and hanging ferns were placed around the outskirts of the room. The dark brown paisley patterned upholstery of the dining room chairs matched the draperies.

"It's a well put together room." She commented.

"It's nice." Gil agreed without taking his gaze from her face.

She smiled with laughing eyes. "How would you know? You've hardly taken your eyes off me since we left our room."

"That's because I didn't realize until I followed you out the door just how flattering that backless dress really is on you."

"Hmm… you really like it a lot then."

"I do. I like the woman in it even more, and so will every other man that comes through the door."

"Good." She smiled obviously pleased and he saw some unspoken thought flash in her eyes.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"Oh just that I'm having a dress made." She shrugged as Jill returned and filled their water glasses before serving two glasses of wine and the hors d'oeuvres.

"I think the chef has outdone himself again." she said. "Tonight it's glazed figs topped with mascarpone and wrapped in prosciutto."

"Thank you." Heather replied eagerly. She waited until the young lady left and then helped herself to the first bite. Grissom watched as she covered her mouth with her fingertips and gave a low moan of pleasure. "Oh…. That's good; really good."

He sat motionless just watching her enjoy the bite.

She smiled. "Well here; have some for yourself, don't just sit and watch me eat." She picked up another and extended her arm across the table. "Bite." She ordered.

He complied and savored the taste for a moment while she finished off the morsel that was left of what she'd offered him.

"That is good." He agreed helping himself to another as he watched her lick a bit of blended cream cheese off her fingertips and then express her satisfaction with another quiet whimper that flooded his body with need.

"Tell me about this dress you mentioned. Is it the one for your birthday?" he asked, trying to distract himself from the sweet tension building inside.

"Yes but, how did you know that?"

While answering, Grissom nodded in silent greeting to the other couple having dinner tonight as they entered the room led by Jill. "Catherine mentioned it to me. She's guessing it's…" He thought a moment recalling her exact words "black elegant and stunning."

"Well, she got two out of three. Do you know them?" She asked referring to the couple he'd nodded to.

He lowered his voice to a more discreet pitch now that they were no longer alone; grateful that Jill had seen fit to seat them far enough away so as to afford both couples some privacy. "No, I don't but he's ogling you."

"Don't hit him." She smiled teasing. She knew very well that he wouldn't.

"I won't hit the guy. I plan to sit here and enjoy the fact that I'm with the woman he's staring at, but I can't speak for his companion. She may hit him."

In reply, Heather smiled slyly and raised an eyebrow, but never took her eyes off Gil, not even long enough to turn and gaze at the man whose attention he claimed she had.

This fact was not lost to Gil as he smiled and asked before taking another bite, "Catherine only guessed two out of three correctly… then it must not be black."

"Right, you are." She sipped wine.

"Well what color is it then?" He asked after pausing to swallow his food

She hummed. "Hmm umm," as she set her glass down. "I'm not telling. You wait and see."

His blue eyes twinkled. "Be that way then; you little tease!"

"You started it. You won't tell me where you're taking me."

"No I won't." he confirmed with a wink.

Over clam chowder and salad they continued their talk in the same light-hearted hushed way. Gil continued to watch her enjoy the meal. She sampled each course sparingly; leaving room for the next. With each course came a new glass of wine and she only sipped at those, no doubt keeping her blood sugar level in mind. He noticed that she barely touched her chowder before setting it aside.

"You don't like it? It's the best I've tasted."

"I agree with that. It's the best I've tasted, but I just don't care for chowder."

"Do you want something else?"

"No we haven't made it to the entrée yet. I'll have plenty. I'm sure it will be good."

"You said you met the chef earlier; before coming back to the room. Is that right?

"Yes, Enrique Alvarado is his name. Apparently he's quite accomplished, Miss Lily says she was lucky to hire him and from what I've tasted; I'd have to agree. I should have introduced you when we took Hank to the kitchen."

He sipped wine. "How long were you there in the kitchen the first time?"

She cocked her head to one side in thought. "About forty-five minutes; Miss Lily is quite the talker."

"She mentioned loosing someone?"

"Yes; Kenny, her son. It's been a long while. He died when he was eight; a swimming pool accident. She said the dogs were her babies now but I think her dogs are more like the grandchildren she never got to have."

"Hmm… so she and her husband had no other children then?"

"No Kenny was an only child and a while after his death her husband, Carl, tried to talk her into having another, but she refused. She said at that time she just couldn't consider it. She regrets that now."

He stared at her thoughtfully. "She didn't tell you she regrets that decision; did she?"

"Oh she told me; just not with words. She's easy to talk to. I found myself opening up to her a bit. She asked if I had any children, or if you did. I told her about Allison. When she asked about Allison's parents I told her that Zoë had passed on. She didn't ask for any details; just nodded and handed me the banana."

He considered her words. "She understands on a personal level, and offered food for comfort."

"Yes. She's a sweet gentle woman. I like her."

Jill suddenly appeared with their entrees, cleared unneeded items from the table, and refilled Heather's water glass; then left again as quietly as she'd come so as not to disturb them anymore than necessary. As with each course before, he watched her sample the first bite. Again, she mewed with pleasure, and when she opened her eyes he smiled and lowered his voice to a nearly inaudible whisper. "Will you stop making those noises please?"

She propped her chin on the heel of one palm, and leaned in close, smiling wickedly. "Why… are you having a hard time over there Mr. Grissom?" She asked flirtatiously.

He leaned in close as well, so that their mouths nearly touched over the small table. When they were little more than a breath apart, he whispered. "Yes I am, but you don't need me to tell you that. Behave please. Don't torment me in public."

"Behave… Where's the fun in that Birthday Boy?" She licked her lips and gave him a look that damn near made him get up and escort her back to their room right then and there.

He took a deep breath to steady his mind. "Heather…not that this isn't delectably fun; but dial it down a notch…please."

She lightly touched a fingertip to his bottom lip. "As you wish." She sat back in her seat, and changed the subject. "How's the prime rib?"

He took a bite and gave his head a small shake. "Absolutely dreadful." He lied; the light in his eyes giving him away.

She grinned and shook her head; not believing a word of it. "Gimme!" She demanded playfully.

He sliced into some of the meat and forked a bite of it; leaning forward to feed her as she had done earlier with the hors d'oeuvres. He watched her accept the bite of food, close her eyes, chew and lick her lips. Then she blotted her napkin across her lips and he was certain she was on the verge of another sweet moan of pleasure that might be his undoing when she opened her eyes and seemed to catch herself just in time. She pressed her lips tightly together for a moment until the urge had passed and then smiled at him.

"I like that. Do you want a bite of fish?"

"Yes, I can tell, and no thank you." He glanced at the other couple to be certain they weren't paying them any attention, Heather's gaze followed his and when he looked back in her direction he found her watching him with an expectant smile.

"So, tell me about your friend Cal."

Surprise flickered in her green gaze. "That's not what I was expecting."

"Two can play this game My Lady. You'll get what you're expecting…later. For now… talk!"

She liked his playing along; teasing her back. He could tell by the heated flash for desire that burned in her eyes.

"You promise?" she whispered.

"I do… now talk to me."

"Okay, what do you want to know?"

"Everything you'll tell me."

"Starting with…?"

"The beginning; when and where did you two meet?"

She paused in thought, "It was 19…90. Yes, that's right because Zoë was almost eight, and about to start the fourth grade. We met at Desert Palm Hospital."

When she paused for a bite of green beans and sautéed mushrooms he waited and then, when she could answer, he asked. "Why were you at the hospital?"

"Massage therapy for some of the patients."

He shook his head. "I'm confused. According to those newspaper clippings of your dad's you had a Master's degree in Behavioral Studies before the age of twenty-one."

"Yes I did, but I didn't look twenty-one. I looked sixteen, and I was a divorced single mother. That didn't go over well with potential employers. They were afraid to put their trust is someone who looked, as far as they could see, like an unreliable teenager who'd obviously made some very poor decisions. I did find one man who let me 'clerk' for him. Basically I was a glorified secretary. He taught me nothing that I didn't already know, and as I'm sure you can guess, I'm not cut out for the secretarial trade. Typing, filing, fetching coffee, and dealing with broken copier machines, may be easy enough, but when he asked me to pick up his dry cleaning or send his mother a birthday card I had to suppress the urge to dump his hot coffee in his lap. I did it for the better part of five years because…well because Zoë liked eating and having a roof over her head."

She grinned and took a bite of her grilled fish.

"One day there was some problem at his son's daycare…I don't remember exactly what the problem was, but he dropped Adam off in my office and told me to watch him; not asked, told. I walked him into his office and closed the door so his son wouldn't overhear what happened next. I remember being so angry that I was trembling. I asked him, 'So I look like, or even remotely resemble your wife in any way?' His reply was 'No, not at all. My wife knows how to follow orders, and keep her mouth shut while doing it.' Gil, it took every ounce of self-restraint I had not to break his nose…or worse. I figured I'd better quit before I got myself arrested for assault."

She paused for a sip of water, and he said, "I'm glad you did, but how did that get you to the hospital."

"Well I knew when I started the job that I couldn't do it forever. At the time though I was in a bind, and needed rent money. Zoë and I; we lived in run-down one bedroom apartment three blocks from the strip, but I really wanted to get her out of that neighborhood. Anyway… I had an elderly neighbor who'd baby sit Zoë for me for next to free. In return, I ran errands for her, did a little cooking and light cleaning. She had really awful arthritis in her shoulders and back, and I used to massage them for her. She'd tell me to go back to school and get a license to be one of those… 'Swedish massage people'. I'd laugh and ask 'when am I supposed to do this Abigail?' One night she had an answer. She said to go to night school and Zoë could sleep over at her place. She was convinced I'd make good money at it for two reasons. She said I had 'magic' hands and that men would line up around the block to have a 'sweet young thing' like me give them a massage. I wasn't entirely convinced she was right, but after even just six months of secretarial work, I was aching to throw in the towel. After more than three years of it, I figured it couldn't make matters worse. So that's what I did. I finished my courses three weeks before I quit my job and by then I already had my foot in the door at the hospital on evenings and weekends. I just wanted to be certain it was going to pan out. Two days before I quit, I met Cal. He was in the hospital recovering from surgery, and was suffering from depression. His daughter saw me in the hospital cafeteria one afternoon, and asked me to visit with him. I did visit with him; I gave him a foot massage and he barely said two words to me for an hour. I packed up to leave thinking it had not gone at all well, but before I left he gave me a hundred dollar tip. When I got home that night and told Abigail what happened, she shrugged and said 'See, I told you so.' I saw his daughter again a week later, and she didn't seem too happy about it, but informed me that her father wanted to see me again. I started going to see him three times a week, and when he was released a month later he asked me to come to his house for appointments."

Gil interrupted her story. "He must have been seriously ill or injured to have spent that much time there. What put him in the hospital?"

"I can't answer that one, sorry. If you want to know, you'll need to ask him directly."

"All that time in the hospital and you never asked him why?"

She smiled patiently, "Oh, I know why, but if I tell you; I'll be breaking a friend's confidence. I won't do it."

He smiled and placed his hand over hers on the tabletop. "And, I won't ask you to."

"Anyway, I was over at his house one day and opened the chest at the foot of his bed. I was searching for a misplaced blanket that he wanted. He told me it was in the hall linen closet, but it wasn't, I spotted the chest through the open doorway, and figured it might be in there so I decide to have a look. I opened the lid and got a bit of a surprise. I didn't find any blankets at all. What I did find, were collars, masks, chains and a whip; the usual accoutrements." She paused for a sip from her chilled glass of water, and smiled at him over the rim before returning to her story.

"However, at that point, those items were not yet commonplace in my life. I was more than a bit curious, and equally uncomfortable. I don't know how long I stood there staring into that chest. Long enough, though, that he came looking for me."

"That was an awkward moment to say the least. At first I couldn't make myself ask questions. He is such a quiet man. He would barely said ten word to me a week during massage sessions. I felt like if I asked him questions; I'd be invading his privacy. I did not want to do that, but one day a week later I couldn't stand my own curiosity any more. I asked him what all that stuff was for, and he just looked at me for a moment before he said…,

'Oh, I'm certain you have some idea already. You're not ignorant.'

For some reason I felt like he'd paid me a compliment of epic proportion. Until that moment, I had no idea what he thought of me… other than the fact that he liked the massages I gave him. I couldn't get a 'read' on Cal. the way I could with other people. He was the first man I've ever not been able to 'read' and it bothered me that I couldn't tell what he was thinking the way I always could with others."

"Over the next few weeks we talked about my accidental discover, a little at a time. He always waited for me to approach him. He never initiated a conversation about the topic or forced me to talk to him about it. When he felt I was ready, he laced me into my first corset, bought me my first whip, and gave me a loan to buy the house and start the business; interest free.

He told me he'd give me ten years to pay him back. I paid him back in four, and although I didn't know it when I handed him the check... He put the money in an account and didn't touch it. On Zoë's seventeenth birthday, he gave her a check big enough to cover her first year at Harvard. She received a similar check every birthday after that until she died. I told him that he didn't have to do it; that I'd pay her tuition myself. That's when he told me that it was my loan payment. That he never loaned anyone money if he truly expected to get it back; so as far as he was concerned, it was still 'my money."

Heather finished her stroll down memory lane just as Jill brought out desert and Gil decided to wait for her departure before commenting.

"Enrique is spoiling the guests tonight." Jill informed them. I have here his decadent double mint chocolate torte with fresh raspberries, and our best desert wine."

Heather smiled politely at her. "The wine is wonderful, but I'm afraid I've had my limit; might I have a cup of black coffee instead?"

"Yes Ma'am of course. Can I get you anything else?"

"Yes, just one desert please. The food was excellent as well, but I'm much too full. If I eat one of those by myself, I'll make myself sick. I'll just have a taste of his."

Jill beamed a bright smile. "No problem." She shifted her focus to Gil. "And, how about you, Sir?"

"Coffee for me as well, please."

"Cream or sugar?"

"No thank you."

I'll be back shortly." She announced after clearing their table of unneeded plates once more.

When she was gone again Gil turned his full attention back to Heather. "That's quite a tale. Based on your story, and what he wrote on the card with my gift; I'd say he cares a great deal about you."

"The feeling is mutual." She said warmly.

"He's a bit older than either of us isn't he?"

"He will be seventy-eight next month on the nineteenth."

"Oh wow! I didn't realize the age difference was that great." He chucked as he shook his head. "I was just about to ask if you two… never mind."

She gave him that 'You have no secrets from me' look. "You were just about to ask if we were ever lovers." She paused but thankfully not for too long. This was one of those instances that she seem to sense that teasing him about the fact that she read his thoughts so easily would not be kind.

"No, Cal and I were never lovers in the physical sense, but we are intimately close."

"I'd imagine you have to be… given the nature of what you've shared."

"Yes, and when you do meet him, if his family is present, don't be surprised if you pick up on thinly veiled hostility."

"Why is that?"

"As I said, he and are intimately close, and his children even his grandchildren, misinterpret that closeness. As you and most other people who live in or around Vegas know, Cal is a wealthy man. He also has a string of young ex-wives longer than my arm. "

"What does that have to do with his family's hostility toward you?"

"They, his daughter especially, see me as potentially 'wife number seven' and therefore feel I'm a threat to the size of their inheritance."

"Has anyone ever told them otherwise?"

They both paused a moment as Jill delivered their coffee and resumed their hushed talk as soon as she was out of hearing range; sipping coffee and leaving dessert, by unspoken agreement, until they were finished.

"I've known Cal for eighteen years. There's a reason he has six ex-wives Gil. He was… and still is… a lady's man, but that's not to say that he's disreputable with woman. Sadly, most people don't see a distinction between a lady's man and a womanizer these days, and that probably includes must, if not all, of his ex-wives. So when I first realized what his children thought of me I tried to set the record straight, because back then, I admit, their thinking I was after his fortune bothered me. But, they made up their own minds long ago, despite my assurances that they had the wrong idea, and furthermore I'm not the same person I was eighteen years ago. It doesn't bother me anymore. I couldn't care less if they think Cal and I are lovers. Truth be told, Cal is well aware of what people typically think of him with regard to woman, and he is just confident enough to enjoy the hell out of it. He's never told anyone that we are lovers, but he won't correct them if they assume otherwise without bothering to ask. He says, 'It's nobody's damn business who I share my bed with…unless she happens to actually be in my bed.' And I agree with him."

"You are both right. People will think whatever they choose to think. You shouldn't let that spoil a friendship."

"We don't let it. Since you asked, and since you will undoubtedly hear talk when you two meet; I just thought I'd let you know the score, lest you should have any concerns." She paused and watched him carefully for a moment.

When he offered her a content smile, she pointed to the dessert near his elbow and said, "I want my bite now."

Grinning; he sliced into the tort with the edge of his fork, and made certain to scoop up some of the raspberries as well. Yet again, he watched her reaction to the food play across her face. This time, instead of an audible response she pulled one corner of her bottom lip into her mouth and bit down upon it. This was a good sign; he knew. She took her time savoring what he also knew would be the only bite she would allow herself.

Confirming this, She licked her lips and declared, "Mmm… sinful! No more for me. I'm going to need a walk around the pond just to burn a fraction of the calories."

He savored one bite of the richly decadent dessert and then commented, "Well Hank will need a walk too before we can go back up to the room, so we can do both. After we get back to the room I'll need a moment or two to phone my mother I haven't checked my phone all day. It's a safe bet she's left me a message. If I don't call her today, vacation or not, there will be hell to pay."

"And, rightfully so. Not talking to Mom on your birthday is worse that forgetting to call on her birthday."

"Is that so?"

"It is, most definitely so."

"So you can occupy yourself for a few minutes upstairs while I put in a call?

"Of course I can." She gave him a wicked look and when she received his 'Grissom' stare in return, she laughed. "I need to phone Jerome anyway and check on Allison."

He extended his free hand as he dropped his napkin onto the table and rose to his feet. She placed her hand in the one he offered, and he heard another delicate moan of pleasure come from low in her throat when, after a second, he let go of her hand to place his gently against the exposed flesh at the small of her back.

In the quiet room, the soft sound caught the attention of the other man present and when the food on his fork missed his mouth and tumbled into his lap, Gil hissed into her ear "Heather…"


	14. Chapter 14

Scene Fourteen

Much later, after picking up Hank in the kitchen, after their walk around the grounds, after they had each made their phone calls, and shortly after their intimate desires had been satisfied Gil lay naked with her in bed, the sheet pulled up to his abdomen, one hand behind his head and his other arm draped loosely around Heather's warm body; her head resting against his left shoulder. He more felt, than heard the slow steady rhythm of her breathing and assumed she'd drifted into sleep. When she spoke softly a few moments later the sound of her voice was a gentle surprise. "You do text messages?"

He stared at the top of her head; perplexed, "I'm sorry; come again."

She picked up her head and offered him a warm sleepy smile. "You were text messaging your mom tonight. Yesterday, when I went by Catherine's house to pick up your gift from her, she said she'd be happy to help, but that she'd have to find a way to get your leave papers to you without you asking too many questions. She didn't want to spoil my surprise."

"Okay and..."

"I told her to e-mail them to you. In reply, she gave me a bizarre look and asked, 'you _do_ want him to get them right?' When I said yes, she said 'all the time that you've known him, and you haven't figured out yet that he doesn't check his e-mail?' I told her that I knew you weren't a big fan of modern technology, but that I assumed it was a necessity at work. She laughed and explained that you were more apt to respond to an e-mail that wasn't work related for the reason that you avoid even opening your e-mail in-box at work because you dread receiving memos from Ecklie."

"That's true. So what…"

"You don't like e-mail…but you do text messaging?"

"Ahh…I see your confusion now. I only do text messaging for my mother."

"Why is that?"

"It's the only way to talk to her by phone without a TTY unless I call for a relay operator and I hate having a third party on the line. There's no privacy that way."

"Oh okay." she said quickly before the significance of the statement caught up to her, and then frowned a second later. "Your mother's deaf?"

"She is." He watched her assimilate this information.

After another two seconds, she said, "Okay" again and laid her head back down on his shoulder, but she didn't stay still long. Less than a minute later, she shifted her position; covering his body with hers and coming up to rest on her elbows so that she could gaze down at him with one of her soul probing stares. "It's hereditary. Six years ago; the second time we met. You couldn't hear me. I thought you were reading my lips, but when I asked if you were losing your hearing; you avoided answering me."

"Yes."

"Because you didn't trust me?"

"I didn't know you Heather."

"That didn't keep you from kissing me."

"No, it didn't."

"And…your hearing's okay now?"

"Yes, it's fine now. I had surgery."

"What causes it?"

"It's called Auditory Sclerosis." Again, he watched her frown in concentration as she mulled this over in her mind.

"So…I'm guessing that some kind of malformation, growth or build-up prevents sound from reaching the inner ear?"

"Yes; exactly." He said and gently rubbed her back.

"Has your mother always been deaf?"

"No. She started losing her hearing when she was twelve. Her condition progressed slowly and she became totally deaf while pregnant with me."

"Why didn't she have surgery?"

"That surgery didn't exist when Mom was young. It's a fairly new procedure."

"Can she have it now?"

"No. you can't reverse the condition once it's set. You have to catch it early to have a chance at preventing the loss, and even if she could; she wouldn't."

Heather understood. "She's lived the majority of her life without hearing. It's natural to her."

"Yes, that's exactly right."

She kept her eyes locked on his and stared for a long moment. "Can this condition recur?"

"It might."

"Will surgery work a second time?"

"That's doubtful."

"So… if it comes back; what will you do?"

"I'll… adjust… and teach you sign language." He smiled up at her.

She rolled onto her back, pulling him along with her; reversing their positions. "My hands may be a bit rusty; it's been a few years since I used them for this…" She stopped speaking and much to his astonishment finished the sentence in sign language; "but I already know how to sign."

He grinned and eased onto his side so that he could use his hands more freely. "When did you learn to sign?"

She thought for a moment, and then answered slowly with her hands, concentrating in an effort to remember all the appropriate signs. "Eleven years ago; Zoë brought a new friend home one afternoon. He was deaf; didn't speak or read lips, and he seemed content to spend his every free moment with my fifteen year old daughter. It didn't take long before writing every word I wanted to speak down got tedious and frustrating. After six weeks of him being at our house nearly every afternoon, I decided that I was not going to continue to allow the fact that he could not hear me, stop me from holding a conversation with him. I signed myself up for classes."

"You did this because a teenage boy who couldn't hear you was spending time with your daughter? That's remarkable; most people wouldn't have gone to the trouble Heather." He said aloud.

She spoke her disagreement. "It wasn't remarkable Gil. It was necessary. Zoë liked him, and I needed to know she was safe with him. I needed to talk to him. The only other option was to tell her that she couldn't spend time with him anymore, and why; because he was deaf? That would have been terribly wrong of me."

In reply, he kissed her, and when the kiss broke; he said, "This is good. I won't have to interpret for you."

"Interpret for me when?"

"Mom asked where I've been all day; why I took so long to call her back? When I told her that you'd kidnapped me and Hank and forced us to go on vacation; she said, 'Good. You need a vacation… and just when are you going to bring this smart woman to see me Gilbert?' It's not good when she calls me 'Gilbert'. It won't be wise to stall much longer."

"Then don't stall." She said from behind her hand as she covered a yawn. "I'm sleepy now; goodnight Gil." She snuggled close again.

"Sweet dreams Heather." He murmured as his eyes slid shut.


	15. Chapter 15

Scene Fifteen

The next morning, sometime before dawn Gil awoke and before he even opened his eyes he realized that he must have kicked off his blankets. The air around him was felt chilled against his exposed skin. The next thing that caught his attention was the fact that he had a very firm erection. He groaned and without giving it any thought at all, he reached out for Heather, and was surprised when his left hand made contact with the cool sheets instead of her warm body. He frowned and was about to open his eyes when he literally felt her presence. She was close; he could feel her warm breath on his flesh; his aroused flesh.

He felt himself tense as he licked his lips; about to speak, when she whispered, "Relax Gil."

Her words danced over his skin making him twitch with desire. The thought occurred to him that he must be dreaming. Heather had never…She wouldn't…commit such an act of submission…would she? His mind argued with itself … no…yes … maybe…oh hell! Heather would do whatever she damn well wanted. But, would she want this?

Her voice reached out to him again in the darkness, "Gil, stop thinking…just feel."

Feeling wasn't any problem. He _felt…_ just fine, but his mind continued to whirl until the feather-light caress of her hand against his balls brought all thought to a grinding halt. His hips arched of the bed, and he groaned as he pressed himself more firmly against her touch.

When she spoke again he could hear an approving smile in her voice; his response pleased her. "Do you like this Gil?" She massaged him gently; slowly.

He nodded quickly; emphatically and although she did not stop caressing him, he felt her shift her position and knew after a moment that she was looking at his face. He felt her breath on his mouth.

"Can't you speak?" He gave no response and she quietly demanded "Open your eyes Gil. Look at me." He complied and she smiled as she lightened her touch still more. Again she asked him, "Can't you speak for me?"

He tried to, but was too overcome by the frustration that her touch was less firm than before. He vigorously shook his head in a negative response and groaned again as he attempted once more to intensify their contact.

She frowned thoughtfully for a moment, and then said, "Very well, you don't have to speak if you don't want to Gil. You're quite capable of expressing your desires without words. Shall I continue?"

In reply, he cupped her face softly with his right hand, and used the left to grasp the hand that was stroking him.

She allowed him to move her hand, and complied willing when he attempted to indicate by touch that she should wrap her fingers around his shaft. Again he arched his hips, pressing himself roughly against the inside of her closed fist and growled deeply when she tightened her grip and stroked his full length; base to tip. Heather slowly repeated this process a few more times and then she loosened her fist and lightly ran her fingernails along the underside of him, pausing at his tip, firmly stroking it with her thumb and index finger. He could feel his own wet heat against her fingers, and found that he could do no more than grunt, out of both satisfaction and frustration, at the slow pace she was taking. While she teased him, she moved again; returning to her original position. This time, when he felt her warm breath against him, he felt a lightning bolt of desire pass through him, that was so strong he thought for one moment he might go mad trying to restrain himself.

"Heather…Please!" He panted, finally finding his voice, but those were the only two words she would hear. They were the only two that his pleasure-drugged mind could produce, since every cell in his body was screaming them.

She placed one tiny flutter of a kiss against his engorged manhood before closing her mouth around his tip and drawing him in. The inside of her mouth was a hot sultry paradise that he'd never expected to visit; one that left him capable of only animal-like noises and behaviors. He grunted one second, allowed his body to relax the next, and in the one following that, he fisted his hands in her long dark hair, and fantasized about pulling her mouth free, forcing her body beneath his and taking her with brutal force. The only reason that he flung the thought away was because it meant that he would no longer feel her tongue against him, and he wanted as much of that as he could get. _God, how he wanted it._ So he stayed where he was; grunting and groaning in ecstasy with each oral caress; each flick of her tongue against him. Her sweet mouth worked, and he willed himself to hold on… to make it last as long as he could.

He wondered how he could have ever questioned her willingness to commit this act. This was no act of submission. It didn't matter what any textbook or behavioral specialist said. Freud himself could have said that Heather was submitting to him, but Gil would have accused the man of lying. Her consent to this may have implied submission, but she was in total control. Then it hit him… This was finally the moment that he came to truly understand the tentative balance between submission and domination all the way down in his soul.

He'd read the books; even heard Heather, herself, say the words. –"The Submissive is the one with the true power." He'd thought he understood. He hadn't really understood at all…but he did now. They'd found their own delicate balance. His natural tendency was to submit; hers was to dominate, but they each were willing to surrender those tendencies when it pleased the other. He was hers, and…she was his.

He felt the heated pressure of her mouth increase to a point he knew he could not withstand. Her teeth flirtatiously, gently, raked against his flesh encouraging him just enough, and as he lost control; the words of one of their first conversations floated into his mind, "She wants the dominate male to choose her so she can stop being dominate."

Moments later, when they lay side by side and he struggled to catch his breath, she heard a ragged whisper come from him; "Damn" and she couldn't help but smile.

A few minutes after that, when he felt that he could breathe normally again, he turned onto his side and brushed her hair away from her face. "Hi."

"Hi, yourself" she said; her pretty mouth stretching into an easy smile.

"Thank you." He said lightly brushing her mouth with his.

"Your welcome!" she declared cheerful as she snuggled closer to his body.

He pulled the sheet and quilt up tightly around both of them. "It's cold in here."

"Yes, I woke up hot last night, but I can't sleep without a blanket covering me. So I got up and adjusted the thermostat. I guess I set it too low."

"Well I bet I can find a way to express my gratitude that will warm us both up."

"Hmm… as tempting as that thought is Gil; you'll have to do it later."

"Why is that?"

"It's time for us to get up."

Gil looked toward the window and could see no trace of light seeping in from behind the drapes, then said with a pout in his voice. "It's still dark out Heather. I'm always up when it's dark. I'm on vacation. I don't wanna get up. I wanna stay here under the covers and play with you."

Heather pouted too. "Please get up…please. I promise you'll like today if you do. You'll regret it if you don't…and…you'll be left here alone in bed to _entertain_ yourself, because I'm going with or without you, but I don't really wanna go without you; so please come! I'll let you sleep in tomorrow."

He looked down at her up-turned face and felt the desire to resist ebb. The look she was giving him was the same one Allison used when begging for an ice cream cone. He sat up in bed and groaned when he saw the digital readout on the clock on the desk.

"Heather, that clock says it's 5:06 AM."

She sat up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She kissed his ear and whispered, "That clock is fast," the instant before he watched her literally bounce out of bed.

She moved so quickly that by the time he asked, "Oh, then what time is it?" she was clear across the room and closing the bathroom door behind her.

Turning, and peering around the edge of the door she winked at him. "It's 5:03."

In response, he picked up a pillow and tossed it at her, but she was too quick for him. The door closed with a soft click a full second before the pillow hit it with a soft thud and slid to the floor. He switched on the bedside lamp and chuckled when Hank trotted away from his large green dog pillow, picked up the one Gil had tossed and brought it back to him. He reached out with both of his hands, taking the pillow in one and rubbing the dog's head with the other. "Good job Buddy."

Hank whined, he wanted more than just a verbal reward and a head rub.

"You want me to get up too; huh? Do you want some breakfast?"

Hank barked loudly once.

"Shhh…Boy, you'll wake everybody on this floor."

The bathroom door opened a crack and Heather peeked out holding her toothbrush in one hand. Her gaze slid from Grissom to Hank, "Is something wrong?"

"No, I just made the mistake of asking him if he wanted some…" Gil eyed the dog and thought better of repeating the word that had most likely made Hank bark. "…B-R-E-A-K-F-A-S-T."

Hank barked louder; as if to ask, "Didn't you hear me the first time?"

Heather giggled. "That's one smart dog Gil. He can spell. You better feed him before he wakes the whole house." She closed the door again as he got out of bed. He found and slipped into his boxes; fed Hank and went to brush his own teeth.

Thirty minutes later he had showered and dressed, and found himself staring at Heather's denim-clad backside as she placed one foot in the seat of the desk chair, and leaned over to tie the laces of the walking shoes she'd selected to go with her attire.

"Will we be doing a lot of walking today?"

"Maybe." She smiled secretively. "

He shrugged and went to the armoire to get both their jackets and Hank's leash.

When Gil had one hand on the end of Hank's leash and the other on the door knob Heather was right behind him, but as he stepped out into the hall, she seemed to suddenly change her mind about leaving and held up a finger silently to indicate that he should wait one moment. She quickly extracted her suitcase from a little niche in the wall that was intended to serve as closet space, tossed it on the bed, unzipped it and rummaged through it until she lifted out a small camera case. She checked the case to be certain it had everything it should, and then put away her suitcase again as Gil watched her quietly.

Several minutes later, after they had taken Hank out for a morning walk, Heather doubled back and returned to the lobby instead of continuing on to the parking, to Gil's surprise, they were met by a rather sleepy looking Miss Lily, who greeted them with a warm smile as she took the end of Hank's leash from Heather and tried to hide a yawn behind her hand. Heather smiled graciously, "Thank you for agreeing to keep an eye on him this morning. That was very kind of you. We'll be back to pick him up in about two hours."

"No need to rush, dear. You two run along and have a beautiful morning." She winked at Grissom, "Happy belated birthday. I understand that you are in for a rare treat."

As they left the Chateau and walked to their car Gil commented, "Yesterday while you two chatted you must have told her about your plans."

"I did." She answered, looking at him over the top of the car; before sliding into the driver's seat.

"But, you still won't tell me." He commented settling in himself and reaching for his seatbelt.

"I won't. You don't have long to wait now." Heather assured him as she turned the key in the ignition and began to pull out of the parking lot.

"Why aren't we taking Hank along?"

I don't think Hank would be comfortable going along with us this morning, and that's assuming he'd be allowed to accompany us. I doubt he would."

"Why not?"

"You'll understand soon. I promise."

"How soon?" He inquired eagerly.

She smiled patiently as she focused on her driving. "Ten minutes Gil; do you think you can survive the suspense for ten more minutes?"

He sighed heavily. "I'll try…"

Heather reached out with her right hand and patted his cheek.

Gil sat and watched the road quietly while his mind was anything but. His mind kept asking, ' _Where is she taking me?' o_ ver and over like a scratched record.

They left the winery, and pulled onto the paved road that had brought them there. Heather drove southeast for only a few moments; snapped on the car's interior dome light then pulled a small computer printed map out from under her visor and glanced at it quickly, carefully keeping an eye on the deserted road ahead. It still wasn't yet six AM. People were, undoubtedly, sleeping in since it was Saturday. As they drove Gil watched the first tell-tale signs of approaching dawn emerge in the sky.

"Want me to navigate?" he offered with a grin reaching out to take the paper from her.

Without making eye contact, she playfully swatted his hand away. She tucked her map away, clicked off the light and a few minutes later spotted a small painted wooden sign on the left side of the road that read 'Blessing Aviation' with an arrow pointing to a gravel path. As she made the turn Gil asked, "Another airplane?"

She gave him an amused smile, "Not quite."

As the drive continued, ahead on the left, Grissom saw an unpaved runway, an old, but well maintained hangar and a small Cessna. A large brightly painted sign on the side of the hangar read 'Blessing Aviation: Flight Lessons Available. Call Us Today.' The corresponding telephone number was neatly stenciled below.

Heather parked in front of the hanger, and smiled at him as she opened her door. "C'mon!" she said nearly giddy with excitement.

Gil got out of the car, looking around for signs of life. There was an old two-tone brown and beige Ford pick-up parked nearby but he neither saw nor heard people. Heather grabbed their jackets from the back seat, and then strode confidently up to the door of the hangar as if the fact that the place seemed to be closed didn't concern her in the least. Gil shrugged off his uncertainty and followed.

As he came up beside her, she handed him his jacket. "Here, put it on so you don't have to carry it. She removed a note from the door; read it and handed it to Gil silently as she slipped into her own jacket, draped the strap on her camera bag over one shoulder, and turned stepping onto a path that led around one side of the hangar.

He fell into step with her as he read the note. 'Ms. Kessler, We're behind the hangar setting things up. Come on back.'

As they came to the rear corner of the hangar, Gil heard the sound of fuel igniting before he saw what awaited him.

A bright red hot air balloon with the word 'Belle' scrawled across the balloon itself in white script, sat tethered to the ground and a group of four men appeared to be preparing it for flight by the illumination of a few very bright exterior lights.

He touched Heather's arm to stop her, and stared dumbfounded when she turned to face him obviously eager for his reaction. "That's a…you're taking me… we're going…"

Her eyes sparkled as she placed a hand against his chest. "Yes we are; as long as it won't scare you."

He stared at her face incredulously. "Scare me; why would that scare me?"

She laughed. "Not everyone wants to float around in the air in a rattan basket that's tethered to a balloon inflated by highly flammable gas. I took a chance that the same part of you that finds rollercoasters so fascinating would enjoy this as well. And I can see by the look on your face I wasn't wrong. Come; let's go find our pilot." She took his hand and they walked together toward the group of men.

As they approached the balloon, an old man in coveralls and rubber soled deck shoes with cropped hair on his head and stubble on his chin the color of cotton moved toward them eyeing Heather with an expression of mild wonder upon his face. "Ms Kessler?" He questioned with a rich Irish brogue

"Yes. Mr. Blessing?"

"Yes Ma'am. Good gracious; When you're daddy called and told me you wanted to go up again, I wasn't sure I'd recognize you after all these years."

"But you did as soon as you saw me." She stated with complete certainty.

"Indeed; I did." He took off heavy work gloves and shook her hand, and then addressed his next comments to Gil. "You must be Dr. Grissom. I'm Alfred Blessing, your pilot. You can call me Al, or Bullet; most folk do."

"Alright Al… and you can call me Gil in place of Dr. Grissom?" He offered, liking the man instantly. "Why are you called Bullet?"

"I'm a retired Navy pilot. 'Bullet' was my call sign." He gestured toward the balloon, "I started flying these things as a hobby when the Navy said I was too old to fly fighter jets anymore; anything to stay in the sky."

The three walked side by side slowly toward the balloon. "I see, and you were saying that you recognized Heather at once?"

"Yes. She was just young lass when last I saw her thought; still had freckles across the bridge of her nose; she did. So I wasn't sure I'd know it was her when I saw her again, but I remember her eyes. They're still as green as the hills of Ireland and every bit as breath-taking."

Heather bowed her head in appreciation as Gil said "They certainly are unforgettable; I'll agree with that. I've yet to find anything that compares personally. I've never seen the hills of Ireland though."

"Well, if you want my unsolicited advice, it'd be a damn bloody shame to die without having seen them. Now, shall, we talk balloons?" He asked placing his hand on the basket's edge.

"Certainly."

"Well first things first; these guys fussing around here are Joe, Frank, and Les. They are my ground crew; and they're here to assist with lift off and touch down. Each member of the crew waved politely and went on quietly with their chores. Second, I always feel ridiculous asking this question, but before we go up; you aren't afraid of heights are ya?"

"No Sir. Do you get a lot of passengers who are?" Gil asked with a raised eyebrow.

"You'd be surprised. People tend to romanticize hot air balloons without really thinking about it first. Just last week I got ten feet off the ground and a woman fainted." The old man shook his head, as Gil stared in disbelieve and laughter bubbled from Heather's throat.

"Was it the shortest balloon flight ever?" Heather asked.

"I doubt it was the shortest on record, but it certainly was the shortest I've ever taken. Before we go up, let's go over the safety rules. I'm the pilot, and you two are the passengers; that means that you don't get to touch the equipment and no leaning over the edge of the gondola in flight. Got it?"

When the old man paused, looking at both of them in turn, Gil replied. "Sounds pretty reasonable, you get people that want to lean out over the edge?"

"Again, you'd be surprised." He looked pointedly at Heather. "During my first year as a balloon pilot, I recall one pretty green eyed dare-devil who wanted to sit on the rim of the gondola and peer down at the lake below us. She thought it was magnificent that she could see the balloon's reflection in the water. Her grandmother kept a firm hand on her shoulder for the rest of the flight."

"Heather… you didn't!" Gil chastised, but his blue eyes twinkled with merriment

"I only wanted to look; and besides, I was eleven. I was fearless then."

Gil's shoulders shook with the force of his laughter. "And what… you aren't now?"

Heather gave him a painfully serious look. "Not entirely, no. There are a few things that frighten me now."

As he stared into her eyes, he took hold of her hand and said to Al. "I'll keep a hold on her just in case she starts feeling adventurous."

Al chuckled. "Most couples do like to hold on to each other in fight. Some seem to forget that I'm even up there with 'em." We'll be up for about an hour. I'm glad to see you both dressed appropriately for flight."

Gil made a face as he looked down at his own clothes. "She packed for me." he said inclining his head toward Heather. I had no idea where we were going this morning; this is pretty much what I always wear. In fact the only difference I can see in her choice of clothing is that she usually wears stilettos."

Al smiled at Heather's walking shoes. "Heels are not good for ballooning." He did not elaborate; just continued on with his next thought. "My wife's sweet rolls and orange juice are already on board, along with a bottle of champagne if you two want to toast the voyage. Feel free to take pictures. Also, I know a little about the history and making of balloons if you want the commentary, but I don't force it on folks. It's fine with me if you'd rather just drift quietly through the air and watch the sunrise."

One of the ground crew members waited until he finished speaking to Heather and Gil, and then say "You're all clear. She's good to go."

Upon hearing this, Al unzipped his coveralls. As he stepped out of them Gil was surprised to find that underneath he was wearing a nice cream colored linen suit with a heavy blazer that had pale brown pinstripes. He slipped his gloves back on, and waved invitingly toward the gondola. "Shall we fly?"

That was all the prompting Heather had been waiting for. As Gil watched, she placed one foot in a toe-hold carved into the side of the basket, and climbed right over the edge as if she done it all her life. He smiled; shaking his head, and followed her lead. They waited for Al to climb in and position himself in the center of the basket beneath the burner. Gil watched curiously as he checked a gauge on a fuel tank, and then placed his hand on a release valve overhead.

The ground crew worked with practiced speed and agility, to release the balloon's tethers that kept them anchored to the ground. When their task was complete, one of the men signaled Al with a stiff salute, which Al promptly returned. He grinned at his passengers as Gil draped a precautionary arm around Heather's shoulders and she, in turn, draped an arm around his waist, but not before she playfully elbowed his ribcage.

"All set?" He flicked the release valve when they both nodded. All three watched the ignition of fuel as a flame shot from the burner with a loud 'whoosh' and rose into the balloon. A second later the gondola left the ground without the slightest upward lurch and rose gently into the air.

Gil watched quietly for several moments as the ground seemed to fall slowly away; then commented, "I expected the initial updraft to have more force."

Al smiled. "Oh it can; if you've got an inexperienced or careless pilot. The balloon becomes buoyant or floats when the air inside the bag becomes warmer than the ambient air. It all depends on how quickly or slowly fuel is released."

Gil asked, "So… if the fuel is released quickly the flame bums hotter, faster, therefore creating a more sudden lift?"

"Exactly, and too much fuel too fast is dangerous. Not to mention that first time passengers tend to get uncomfortable if you ascend too rapidly. A slow moderate rate of ascent is just as important is the proper rate of speed for descent."

"I heard the sound of ignition earlier when we were coming around the side of your hangar."

"Yes we always do a few test fires before a flight just to ensure that everything is in order and functioning properly."

Gil glanced at Heather. He knew she was listening to them talk, but the far away expression on her face said that she only half heard. She'd let go of him, and moved nearer to the edge and was looking out at their surroundings. Gil placed a hand against her back, causing her to look up briefly; distracted by his nearness. She smiled, and slipped the strap of her camera bag over one shoulder and around her neck so that it hung securely across her torso and left her hands free to operate the camera that she then extracted. Grissom guessed they were about a hundred feet off the ground when she started scouting for good photo shots and she smiled and waved him on; indicating that he shouldn't stop talking on her account. She was content to listen quietly while she snapped photos for memorabilia.

"How high can we go up?" he wanted to know; once again turning to Al.

"The highest record achieved was 68,986 feet in November of 2005, but we won't get anywhere near that altitude. We're not equipped to go that high."

"We have no oxygen." Gil supplied the first reason he could think of.

"Right. All non-pressurized aircraft must have oxygen on board to exceed 12,500 feet, but also, this balloon is not geared for the temperature at such a high altitude. We certainly aren't dressed for it either. Balloons carrying passengers such as yourselves rarely exceed an altitude of 3,000 feet."

"Will it be colder at that height?"

"Yes, but not uncomfortably so; you'll be fine especially with your jackets."

Gil thought for a moment. "It doesn't feel windy."

"No, and it won't unless there is a sudden change in altitude. The reason you don't feel the wind is because we are actually in the wind current; not standing outside it. And, it's never a good idea to fly on a windy day. Even if the flight goes well, your chasers may have a long way to drive." Al said this last part with a broad grin.

"Chasers?" Gil inquired.

"The ground crew members who follow the balloon on land, and drive you back to your lift off point." Heather answered for Al, without taking her gaze off the horizon. "Otherwise you might have a long walk back; if you caught a good current."

"How far can we travel?"

Heather answered again. The East Indian man who reached nearly 69,000 feet in 2005 traveled 149 miles and landed in a different country, but we can't get that far in an hour. Or…can we?" She asked Al.

"No we aren't traveling fast enough. At the most we might land thirty or forty miles away from the hangar; but I doubt, based on wind conditions, we'll get half that far."

"What's the highest recorded speed for a balloon?"

"It's 243 miles per hour, but that balloon was specially equipped." Heather supplied this answer as well.

Al laughed, "You want a job as flight commentator?"

Heather smiled sheepishly and lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "I'm sorry; no. You go on. I'll be quiet now."

Gil had to ask, "How do you know all this anyway?"

"The book I brought with me."

"The one you were reading on my front steps yesterday morning, and last night while I was on the phone with Mom?"

She flashed him a brilliant smile. "Yes."

"I saw that book; it looks like a book of poetry."

She pursed her lips together as if making a decision and then admitted, "I bought it the day before yesterday, took it home; and swapped dust covers with one of my books of poetry, so that you wouldn't see it and ask questions."

"You little sneak!" He complained, but hugged her as he was doing it.

"Well I'm sure Al told me most of this when we went up all those years ago, but I couldn't remember it/"

"Yeah, you were too busy trying to fall out of the basket." Gil accused with laughter in his voice.

"I was not trying to fall out!" She hissed playfully. "I only wanted to see if I really could see the balloon's refection in the water."

Al offered, "We'll pass over Vail Lake in a few minutes. Gil if you'll keep a steady hand on her; she can take a picture; the sun isn't through rising just yet. The refection won't be directly under us."

"Alright." Gil consented; shaking his head. He smiled at Heather and wrapped his arms around her from behind, "If I can read your book when you're done with it, I won't ask any more questions. We'll just float and enjoy the atmosphere."

She flashed him a happy smile. "You've got a deal Dr. Grissom!"

They held on to each other and chatted in hushed voices about things they saw for the rest of the flight. They watched the sun make its debut, pointed out unusually shaped clouds or other things that caught their attention, watched a flock of birds play; looping in the air then diving and chasing after each other. They drank a bit of juice and champagne, and Heather stole a small bite of the sweet roll he ate; informing him when he gave her a look of mild concern, that "on such occasions as this, small indulgences were acceptable.".

Grissom would swear for years to come, that Heather took enough pictures to fill fifty photo exhibits at a museum. The last two she took while descending were of a pair of squirrels chasing each other from one treetop to another and a bell in the tower of a three hundred year old church. As their time afloat neared its end, she leaned back against the wall of his chest and whispered, "Now, aren't you glad you got out of bed this morning?"

He could only think of one truly adequate response. He kissed her passionately until both their lungs were screaming for air, and when the kiss finally broke they found Al; politely pretending to fuss over gauges and valves as if he hadn't witnessed a thing.

When they arrived back at the hangar, they each shook Alfred Blessing's hand and thanked him for the memorable trip. In reply he looked Heather squarely in the eye and said, "Come and see me again, but don't wait thirty-something years between visits this time Lass; I'm an old man now. I probably won't be here that much longer."

Gil assured him that they would be back again and was only mildly surprised to find that his words were not hollow. Somehow he knew with complete certainty that he and Heather would return someday. Heather seemed to sense it too, because, in a rare public display of emotion, she threw her arms around the old man's neck, held him tightly for a moment and whispered, "Count on it, Bullet!"


	16. Chapter 16

Scene Sixteen

On the way back to the Chateau Gil asked, "So…What's on the agenda for the rest of today?"

"Well there are several things we can do, but since it's not even 7:30 yet; I recommend we start with food. I need more than just champagne and a nibble of sweet roll for breakfast. Let's go back to the dining room and eat."

"Okay and then what are our options?"

"Your options; you mean. You get to choose from this point on."

He took hold of her hand, "Then what are _my_ options?"

"We can go back to our room; crawl into bed, and watch movies on TV all day. Or… not watch them." She offered with a sly smile.

"I like the last part better, but tell me all the options first, before I decide."

"We can take that tour that the winery offers."

"Hmm… champagne for breakfast; wine for lunch. What's for dinner, that bottle of Brandy your friend Cal gave me? You'll wind up in the hospital, and I'll be drunk! No, I don't like that idea; next option please."

Heather chuckled warmly and patted his thigh. "There a street fair going on in town today. We could pick up Hank, and go see the sights. Also, we could visit the local library here. They are hosting an exhibit of the Shakespearian tragedies. Or we could visit the Museum of Natural Science. They have an exhibit on Entomology happening now. You could browse and tell me if they've got all their facts straight."

Grissom smiled, but shook his head, "No thanks; I don't feel like playing with bugs today."

Shocked laughter tumbled from Heather's mouth, "You don't?"

"Nope, I don't. Let's do something else. The library is out too. We'd have to leave Hank behind all day."

"We can do anything you want Gil. Those were just suggestions I thought you'd appreciate."

He thought a moment. "Let's have breakfast, get Hank, and go to the street fair. Hank can go with us there."

"Okay and maybe you can find a nice gift for Catherine there too."

"Why does Catherine need a gift?"

She looked at him and raised that eyebrow; the one he always wanted to hide from. "She's doing both her job and yours for three days so that you can be here worry-free."

"And…I am worry-free. The office will be fine with Cath in charge. She can handle anything."

"That's my point exactly! She deserves a 'thank you' Gil, and it shouldn't be only words. It should be something nice… in a box… that also comes wrapped in pretty paper." She smiled.

"Okay, okay I'm convinced. You're right. I should say 'thank you' but I don't have a clue what she'd like."

"Well then, it's a good thing I'm here with you." She teased.

"Heather, that's always a good thing."

Two hours later, they'd eaten a leisurely breakfast, picked up Hank and driven out to the location of the street fair.

While there, they walked block after block, browsing booths and taking turns going into shops; one of them always stayed outside to be with Hank. They watched street performers, stopped to laugh at a mime, listened to the music of a few bands, and ran laughing after Hank when he broke free of Gil's hold on his leash to chase after a frightened squirrel. As Hank ran, and they trailed after him, shouting for him to stop; people scattered. Heather recognized fear on a few faces, but most people laughed and simply moved out of the big barking dog's path. Heather had begun to wonder if they'd catch him at all when they finally got close enough for Gil to step on the end of the leash that trailed behind Hank. Heather threw her arms around Gil just in time to help him keep his balance as Hank tried to pull free.

"Damn dog!" Gil huffed with his hands on his knees; gasping for air.

Heather patted his back and he glared at her as she laughed, "Aww c'mon Gil! He's just having a little fun."

He rolled his eyes and tried not to laugh at the pitiful look she gave him. Instead he roared. Hank, get over here…now!"

Hank crept slowly back after sniffing the air to be certain that the furry rodent was too far away to catch now. He wore the most pathetic expression Heather had even seen as he came to stand in front of Gil.

"You sit… and… stay." Gil ordered.

Hank obeyed; whining.

As Gil bent to pick up the end of the leash; glaring at his dog, Heather tried again. "Gil he's just a dog. Let him have a little fun." She said trying to smother another burble of laughter..

Hank sat; not moving and wagged his tail.

Gil glanced sideways at Heather as he wrapped the end of the leash securely around his hand. "You aren't helping." He accused, but Heather could see the tell-tale corners of a smile on his face.

"Come on let's get something to eat from one of those food booths." She said. "It's past lunchtime and I'm hungry. I bet Hank could use some refreshment too. That was quite a run. He has to be thirsty…and hungry. What do you say Hank? You want a treat; I'm buying."

Gil shook his head as his dog wagged his tail so hard that his entire back end shook.

"Oh come on Grumpy Bear." Heather linked her arm in his. "I'll buy you some grilled chicken on a stick with fried rice with veggies from that booth over there." She said pointing.

He stood quietly and waited while Heather ordered three plates of the food she had mentioned, a gyro, two lemonades, and four bottles of water. She also asked the woman behind the booth if they could have an empty Styrofoam bowl. They got the order a few minutes later and she handed half of it to Gil as he wondered why she ordered quite so much. Even with her hearty appetite she couldn't eat all this. They found a small picnic table and she gave him one plate, one bottled water and one lemonade. She took the same for herself along with the gyro and emptied the two remaining bottles of water into the bowl. She tied the end of Hank's leash around one of the slats in the bench seat, gave him the bowl and took the chicken off of the wooden skewer on the remaining plate and cut it into bite-size pieces with a plastic knife. She gave that to Hank as well while Gil watched.

"He had breakfast you know. He can wait until we get back to the chateau. He won't starve before then. You're going to spoil him."

"With what…it's grilled chicken, rice and vegetables; it's good for him." She declared as she sat down to eat her own.

Grissom shrugged. It was pointless to argue. The chicken was a bit tough, but certainly edible. He was surprised how good it all tasted given that it was cuisine from a booth at a street fair. Heather ate happily and when she was through with the chicken and rice, she unwrapped the gyro partially; holding the foil wrapped end to avoid making a mess, and took a big bite out of it as well. He knew what was coming by looking at her face before he heard the moan that escaped her.

"Is it that good?" He asked doubtfully.

"Mmm hmm!" She mumbled around a mouthful. She waited until she swallowed to continue. "Here; have a bite, before I unwrap it and pick it apart. I can't eat too much of the pita."

He bit the end of the pita and was surprised to taste more chicken, olives, tomato, onion garlic, and basil. "That is good." He said when he finished the bite.

She looked at him for a moment and then, without asking him if he wanted more. She put it down on her plate, unwrapped the foil, cut the pita in half, and gave him part of it. She then proceeded to eat the food from the middle of the other half.

While he ate, something she'd said before crossed his mind. "Grumpy Bear?" He asked her with an odd look on his face.

"You were fussing at Hank for doing what dogs do. You were grumpy."

"Yes, but you said Grumpy Bear."

"Yes like the blue Care Bear; the one with the rain cloud on his tummy."

"What's a Care Bear?"

She gave him a stunned look. "Gil you are my favorite entomologist in the world, but every once in a while crawl out from under your rock; will you?"

He rolled his eyes but then sighed "Okay; what's a Care Bear?" He repeated.

"It's a stuffed kid's toy; also a cartoon. They first became popular twenty-five years ago. Their popularity died out, but about…oh five years ago I guess, they made a comeback. Grumpy is the blue one with the permanent scowl on his face, and the rain cloud on his belly. He's Allison's favorite one. Zoë loved them too when she was Allison's age. Her favorite was Good Luck Bear. He has a four leaf clover on his belly."

"Why is Grumpy Allison's favorite bear?"

"She routes for the underdog I guess. She says all he needs is a hug, and then he won't be grumpy anymore."

"Did Zoë believe in good luck charms?"

"No, she liked him because he's green. That was her favorite color."

"They're green and blue?"

"There's one for every color of the rainbow and then some."

He grinned and Heather knew he was about to say something off beat. "Is there a… Dominatrix Bear?"

She rolled her eyes, "What; a black one with a whip on her belly? I'm afraid not; they're made to appeal to toddlers Gil; not big boys your age."

"Me… I thought you might like one." He teased; his blue eyes twinkling.

"No… I don't need one of those. I'd like to see a silver, quirky, socially uncomfortable, Scientist Bear." She played along while getting up from the table and collecting their trash. She tossed it in a nearby trash can, and they were on their way again

A few minutes later she wanted to go into a shop named 'A Touch of Glass' "I will be a few minutes. Before I browse the shelves I want to find a ladies room."

Gil pointed to a nearby bench. "Hank and I will be right here."

Twenty minutes later she came out carrying a bag with the shop's logo on it.

"What'd you buy?"

She sat down beside him and gently shoved Hank's curious nose out of the bag before removing two boxes. "Hank, you leave these alone Buddy. They're not for you, and they're not food either." She removed the content of each box carefully. Each one contained a unique set of fine crystal goblets. One set was a plain smoke tinted crystal without a lot of detail; just a simple, classic design. The second set was clear in color but more ornate with a thin gold band around the rim of each glass. "If you approve, then this second set is for Catherine."

"I'm sure she'll be pleased. And…thank you for picking it out."

In place of a verbal response she kissed him, and then said, "I need to find a small gift to take home to Allison, and then we should go. My feet hurt; I'm tired of walking and I need a nap."

He stood; made sure he had a good grip on Hank's leash, and offered her his hand. As they walked back in the direction that would take them to their rental car, he draped an arm around her and she fell into step with him effortlessly.

A few minutes later they passed a toy store that neither had noticed when they come the opposite way earlier. Gil found another bench as she promised not to be gone as long this time around. True to her word, she came out nine minutes later carrying another bag and smiling at him. Again she sat down beside him, what she pulled from the bag this time was a stuffed blue bear with a scowl on his brow, a cloud on his belly, and a price tag firmly affixed to one of his paws. "Gil Grissom; meet Grumpy Bear."

Hank barked and wagged his tail.

Heather eyed the dog sternly "Oh no you don't! This is not a squeaky toy for you young man! This is for Allison."

Gil took hold of the bear and looked it over. "What does it do?"

"Do? It doesn't do anything. You hold it; cuddle it."

Gil scowled at the bear. "Where's the fun in that?"

"First of all…" she chuckled quietly. "Stop frowning that way; you look just like him. And second," She grabbed the bear from his hands and bopped him on the head with barked, and Gil grabbed the bear and hit her back with it repeatedly until she threatened to do him severe bodily harm if he didn't stop.

Once he had, she collapsed ,laughing, against his chest. "C'mon, let's go back to the B&B and take a nap." He said.

They made it back to where they parked, and while Heather put her purchases in the trunk, Hank sniffed at nearby bushes and whined to be let loose from his leash. "Oh no. You've done your thing, Hank. You aren't going in those bushes. You'll get burrs in your coat."

Hank whined and barked, pawing the ground trying to get free, but Gil held firm. He managed to wrestle the dog into the backseat of the car, but it was not easy. He tried to sooth the dog, crouching down on his heels in the open doorway, "Hank, Buddy calm down. It's okay." He looked at Heather, who by this time, was standing beside him with her back to the car. "I don't know what's wrong with him Heather. He's never like this unless something's wrong."

"Then something _is_ wrong Gil. Let him out; maybe lunch didn't agree with him."

Gil stood, and said, "Okay Big Guy." He reached for the leash, but Hank had all the permission he was going to wait for. He bounded out of the car, nearly knocking Gil over and ran straight for the bushes. As Heather ran after the excited dog, she called over her shoulder, "You okay Gil?"

"Yeah, I'm alright." He said following her. "Just catch him please."

Heather followed Hank's path, stepping carefully into the bushes. "Gil, stay there in case he runs back."

Gil stopped at the edge of the pavement and waited. He could see Heather's back, but not Hank at all. He could hear him whining though. "Heather is Hank alright?"

She didn't answer right away, and he watched her kneel, and nearly disappear from view in the trampled bushes. "Heather…?"

She called out. "Gil get Hank's blanket from the backseat for me. We're going to have to postpone that nap."

He ran to grab the blanket, thinking that Hank must have hurt himself somehow, but when he reached Heather's side Hank was there and appeared to be fine physically.

Grissom looked down at the ground and saw an obviously injured, not to mention filthy, little black dog that was far too thin to be healthy She was so dirty her coat was matted and grimy. She sat favoring one paw that was clearly in pain. She watched the three of them with a very guarded attitude.

Hank whined.

"Well, I guess now we know what had his attention." Gill rubbed his head. "Good Boy."

Heather reached out slowly toward the frightened dog making soft noises to comfort her, and she growled and snapped at Heather causing her to jerk her hand away.

Hank barked his objection to this behavior and licked Heather's hand.

"Hank, it's okay Big Guy; I'm not hurt." Heather patted the big dog's shoulder, and he went back to whimpering and trying to make friends with the tiny girl.

"Still, be careful Heather. She might bite you."

"She's not mean Gil. She's only scared. Some fool has mistreated her." Heather pulled a dog treat from her pocket and broke it into pieces. She gave Hank the larger pieces and asked him, "Will you share with her Pal?"

Hank whimpered.

"Okay you're a sweet guy Hank."

She reached out to the little dog again, this time offering a piece of treat.

The little dog put her dainty nose in the air and sniffed at the offering. After a moment's hesitation she gobbled it up and stared at the empty hand the treat came from.

"Well now that's better Sweetheart." Heather cooed. She gave her the rest of the treat, and while she was munching, Heather took the blanket from Gil, then wrapped her in it and picked her up. She turned and headed straight for the car. "Gil, you drive. Hank, let's go! Since Lily has six dogs, I'm going to call her. She'll know where to find a reputable vet."


	17. Chapter 17

Scene Seventeen

Dr. Harry Jarmin opened the front door of his clinic and let them in at 4:58 PM. "You must be Heather and Gil. Miss Lily phoned said that some of her guests had an emergency. I'm glad she called when she did. I was just about to leave for the day."

Gil shook his hand. "We really appreciate you staying for us."

The doctor squatted and rubbed Hank's head while looking him over. "Hello Big Fella." He glanced up at Gil. "What seems to be the trouble? He looks fine at first glance. He seems alert and at ease."

"It's not Hank we're concerned about." Heather said, holding out the blanket she had been cradling for the vet to take. "Hank found her abandoned at a street fair."

Once he held the blanket he understood. He peeled the blanket away enough to see the face of the tiny pup inside. "Well hi there darlin'; are you having a tough day? Well it's going to get better."

As much to Heather and Gil as to the dogs he said, "Let's go in the back and have a look." He led them through the waiting area to an exam room and set the bundle in his arms down on a stainless steel table. As the blanket fell away, and she tried to shake herself free he exclaimed, "Goodness, before I can examine her, she's got to have a bath. She looks like somebody dropped her in an oil pan, and then rolled her in dirt." He carried her to the sink, and placed her on the counter top while he turned on the water and adjusted the temperature. "Don't you go anywhere darlin'. You stay put." To ensure that she did as asked he took the lid off a jar of dog treats and gave her several. She sniffed at them tentatively and then inhaled all of them.

"She's hungry." Heather commented with a note of sadness in her voice; stepping nearer to the little dog.

The vet smiled at Heather's reaction. "Yes she is. From the look of her, I'd say that she hasn't eaten for a while, but given that fact; her being hungry is a good sign. It means, most likely, that she isn't sick. Have you ever seen a dog that didn't want to eat?"

"Yes I have; once. He was very sick. He died."

Again the veterinarian offered her a warm gentle smile, "Well this little one still wants to eat, and that's good. Do you want to help bathe her?"

In reply Heather pushed up the sleeves of her blouse and stepped closer to the sink. He offered her an apron to protect her clothes from the dirt and water. She accepted, put it on, and gave Jarmin an inquiring look when he removed baby shampoo from a cabinet.

"It's mild enough that it won't sting her cuts and scratches." He offered in explanation.

Heather nodded quietly, and the two set to work. Only a moment after they had begun, Hank came over to stand beside Heather and watch. Gil found a stool with wheels and pushed it over and sat beside Hank; partly to watch too, and partly to make certain Hank didn't get in their way. The tiny dog seemed a bit nervous, but accepted what was happening without complaint. She had burrs stuck in her matted fur and it made bathing her difficult, so the vet handed Heather a pair of scissors, and she set to work cutting them out while he scrubbed. They worked quietly, except for when one of them spoke to comfort the dog in the sink or the one at Heather's side. Hank watched their every move attentively.

At one point, Heather offered him a treat from the jar. "We aren't hurting her Pal. I promise." Hank refused the treat so Heather gave it to the smaller dog.

The bath took nearly an hour, but near the end Heather spoke to get the vet's attention. "Dr. Jarmin, I think she's got one of those awful burrs stuck between the pads on her paw. That's why she holds it up. It hurts her to bear weight on it."

"Yes I noticed it a while ago, but decided to take care of it last. It's wedged in tight, and I was hoping the water might loosen it a bit. She's going to fight us when we try to take it out. And… call me Harry." He wrapped a fluffy towel around the dog and rubbed her gently to absorb some of the water from her coat. Then he tossed the towel in a hamper, and wrapped her in a fresh dry towel before he handed her to Heather.

"If you hold her, I'll see if I can work it loose enough to cut it out." They both tried to sooth her distress as he worked with gentle hands to extract the burr enough to cut it free. The little dog whined and yapped pitifully, and squirmed to be free off Heather's arm.

Hank whined loudly and Gil held on to his collar and talked to him. "It's okay Buddy. They're trying to help her."

When the doctor finally was able to snip the burr loose, the little dog calmed immediately in Heather's arms, and Hank quieted as well. Jarmin held her paw up and looked at it closely. "It's a bit pink, but you found her before it got seriously infected. I'm going to put some antibiotic cream on it and wrap it. If she tries to chew the bandage off we'll give her a collar to prevent that." He medicated and bandaged the paw while she was still in Heather's arms. The dog whimpered again and Hank barked in protest, but the vet didn't seem to mind either complaint. "Okay now let me see her. I want to get a good look at the rest of her cuts and scratches."

Heather took the towel off of her. "Wait just a moment Harry." She knelt in front of Hank and held the pup out for him to sniff. "See Hank, she's okay. We won't hurt her."

The little dog licked the end of Hank's nose and the people in the room laughed when the big dog made a noise that sounded very much like a sigh of contentment.

Heather looked at Gil and smiled. "Your dog is whipped."

Gil grinned; patting Hank's head. "I know the feeling well."

Harry spoke up and declared, "It looks like you better pick a name for her. I don't think Hank is going to let her go. Now bring her to the table, I'll examine her thoroughly, give her a few shots, and some standard meds."

As she walked over to the table, Heather said, "She can come live with me. Gil doesn't need another dog in his house. Allison will love her, and Hank can visit all he likes. What breed is she; can you tell?"

"She's got the build and characteristics of a West Highland Terrier, but pure bred Westies are white. She's smaller too. I'd say that she's a mixed breed; most likely, part Westie and part Scottie, and I doubt that she's six months old yet."

Heather smiled, "Scottish Terrier; that was my guess. My grandmother had one for a while, but that little dog got out and got lost."

"Well if you're serious about keeping her; I can put one of those 'Home Again' microchips in her hip. It's just a quick injection. It won't hurt her, and if she ever gets lost, most vets and shelters scan for them now. The chip holds your contact information, but I still recommend collars with visible ID too."

Grissom spoke up. "Hank has one himself Heather; just in case."

Heather placed the dog on the table, and smiled, "Yes please; I'd like that.

The vet did his exam and before he administered vaccinations he turned to Hank, who stood, fore paws upon the table, watching everything. "If she cries when I do this; don't eat me okay?"

Hank made a grumbling sound, and the little girl licked his nose again.

The vet finished his work, and then gave Heather six month supplies of heart worm preventative, and flea treatments. He said good-bye to Heather and Gil, patted both dogs and sent them on their way. Before they left Heather threw Hank's, now filthy, blanket in a trash can.

"We need to find a pet store anyway." She said. "She needs things. I'll replace Hank's blanket too."

"She needs things?" Gil questioned as they got in the car with Hank in the back seat, and the puppy in Heather's lap.

"Yes; she needs lots of things. And make it one of those pet stores that let the dog come inside too like 'PetsMart'. I'll call Miss Lily again and ask her where one is."

Gil smiled and rolled his eyes as he started the car. "Yes Ma'am"


	18. Chapter 18

Scene Eighteen

After visiting 'PetsMart', where Gil thought Heather would buy every item the store carried for a puppy, they stopped at a bar-b-que joint called 'Riley's' to pick up some take-out for dinner. Heather volunteered to wait in the car with the dogs while Gil when in to order. She told him that she wanted ribs and sausage along with whatever side orders they typically offered. As he opened the door to go inside she rolled down her window and called to him. "Gil, please make sure that they put my bar-b-que sauce in a separate container; not directly on the meat." He waved and went in.

Once they were back at the chateau Jake trotted out to greet them. "Miss Lily asked me to tell you that she will be along momentarily to greet you. She's very anxious for news about the puppy Hank found."

Gil informed him, "Alright, and we're going to need a luggage trolley so that we can haul in all of Heather's puppy-related purchases without making more than one trip."

When she heard this, Heather laughed complaining to him, "Gil, I didn't buy that much." while Jake stepped back inside to grab a trolley

"Heather, you've got seven bags here; plus a dog bed, and two different kinds of puppy food. I don't see how she could really need all seven bags of stuff when she's small enough to fit in one of those bags with room to spare."

Heather scooped the little dog off the front seat of the car and cuddled her. "Baby, don't listen to him. He's just a grouchy old man who needs a nap. I promise I won't let him stuff you in a shopping bag."

Gil rolled his eyes as he opened the trunk lid. "I said she was small enough to fit in one; not that I'd put her in one. You take her in. I'll help Jake unload the trunk and bring dinner up to the room. Hank, are you staying with me or going with the ladies?"

Hank looked at the puppy in Heather's arms, and when she started to walk toward the door, he barked and trotted after her.

Heather laughed, "We'll see you soon."

When he made it into the lobby a few minutes later, Heather was still there; sitting in a wing back chair across from Miss Lily, who held the little black puppy in her lap while Hank sat at her side. "Oh Hello Gil; have a seat. Did you enjoy your day?"

"I did; very much, thank you." He said, taking one of the other chairs.

"Heather and I were just discussing what to name this tiny little angel. We've decided not to go with any of the Shakespearian heroines. She growled when one of my employees suggested she be called Fifi; so we discarded that as well. I've suggested naming her after a bottle of wine to commemorate your visit here. Heather likes the idea, but we're having a tough time finding one suitable."

"Let's see… Merlot, Chardonnay, Sauvignon, Pinot Noir, Bordeaux, Cabernet… I see the problem. What about the different types of wine grapes?"

Miss Lily laughed, "That's a long list."

"Okay red ones only." He offered.

"That's still an awfully long list Gil, but a common one here in California is the Rubired. Hey… That's it! Heather, you could call her Ruby."

The little dog barked and licked Miss Lily's hand and Hank whined approvingly.

Heather laughed, "Well, Ruby it shall be!" She scooped up the little dog from Miss Lily's lap. "Come on Ruby; let's go have some dinner… and thanks for the help Miss Lilly."

"Anytime Dear." She called after them waving.

Once in their room, Heather rummaged through the bags long enough to get out two small bowls and one of the sacks of food. While Gil fed Hank she fed Ruby, and once the dogs had their bowls of food and fresh water, Gil and Heather sat on the bed with their meals in their laps, and ate contently. He gave Heather a piece of his chicken in exchange for one of her ribs, and she gave him her coleslaw because it was too sweet. Afterward, while she changed in the bathroom he cleaned up the mess from dinner. Shortly after he'd finished, she came out wearing the knee-length back silk shirt she liked to sleep in, and put her shopping bags in the middle of the floor, sat down cross-legged beside them and started pulling things out. Both Hank and Ruby eyed her curiously from their spot on Hank's big green pillow. Hank was stretched out taking nearly all the space available, but Ruby found a spot between his fore legs and laid her head and her injured paw over one of them using it for a pillow.

Heather patted the floor in front of herself. "Ruby, come here."

Ruby lifted her head and looked at Heather as if deciding whether to obey or stay where she was. Heather simply looked at the dog and waited.

After a moment, Ruby decided to stand, stretch, and limp over to where Heather sat.

Gil noticed that her limp was not bad, that she'd occasionally applied light pressure to the injured paw, and guessed that in a few days she'd be good as new.

When the dog reached Heather, she scooped her up and praised her. "Yes, you're a good girl." Heather located a box of treats in one of the bags, opened it, and gave her one. Hank decided he'd 'come here' too since treats were involved.

He took advantage of the fact that Heather sat on the floor and licked her face happily. "Hank, ssssittt." She laughed; trying to fend him off.

Hank not only sat, but then decided to stretch out flat on his belly. "Oh okay you're a good boy." Heather rewarded him with a treat of his own.

First she picked up a tiny bright red 'Martingale' collar, and said to Gil, "Give me the tags that Dr. Jarmin gave her please." He stood from his chair, pulled them out of the front pocket of his jeans and handed them over before sitting down next to her on the floor. There were two tags. One was a metal bell shaped tag that indicated that Ruby had been properly vaccinated, and the other was a yellow diamond shaped tag made of plastic that indicated she had a 'Home Again' microchip implant. Heather secured both to the collar and then slipped it onto Ruby's neck. "There kid; now it's official. You have a home."

She rubbed the puppy's head affectionately, and Ruby sniffed at one of the shopping bags. "You want to see what else I got for you?" Heather took out a red and black dog sweater, and attempted to put it on Ruby. Ruby growled menacingly and gave a loud clear bark while struggling to be free. Hank joined in, adding his own protest of the sweater.

Heather let her go and laughed when Ruby backed her way out of the sweater, picked it up, still growling and shook it ferociously.

Heather looked at Gil. "I don't think she likes that at all." She said taking the sweater away from Ruby and hiding it in a bag.

"I'd have to agree. Don't spend your money on dog sweaters."

Heather extracted a matching red leash to go with Ruby's new collar and clipped it on.

"Are we going out?" Gil asked; looking at Heather's night shirt.

"No, but I doubt she's leash trained. Let her drag it around and at least get acquainted with the feel of it."

Gil nodded his head. For more than an hour, Heather played with the dogs; occasionally extracting a new toy or dog care item from a bag. She'd bought a few things for Hank as well, because as she informed Gil when they were shopping, "It isn't fair to take two dogs into a place full of fun dog things, and only buy for one of them." So they all laughed and played. The shopping bags slowly emptied and when there was only one bag that still contained any items and that bag was found to be turned on its side, Ruby hobbled into it and growled.

"What's her problem?" Gil asked laughing.

"I don't know the only things left in there are Hank's new blanket and a couple of really big bones I got for him to chew on."

Ruby backed out of the bag doing her very best to drag a cellophane-wrapped bone out with her, growling and snarling because she could barely move the massive treat and Heather collapsed against Gil's side. He folded his arms around her; both of them overcome with laughter.

After a moment when Heather thought she had her laughter under control, she called "Here Ruby…" and offered the dog a much smaller bone that was the appropriate size for her.

Ruby would have none of that. She turned her little nose up, and went back to growling at the big bone. Heather picked it up and Ruby barked in protest.

"Hey at least let me take the cellophane of it; will you? Plastic is no good for dogs to eat."

Ruby barked impatiently and Hank joined in too.

Heather giggled, "Okay, okay I'll hurry. I don't know how you think you're going to eat this thing Missy. It weighs more than you do." When she had removed all the plastic Heather set it back on the floor and watched Ruby go at it attack-style. Gil held her as they laughed. "She can't even close her mouth around it." Heather choked out the words while clutching her belly."

"No, but that is one determined little girl." Gil laughed.

After a few moments of trying to tug the bone unsuccessfully, Ruby growled in frustration and barked. She bumped into the bone accidentally with her nose and it rolled over once. Then she did it again; this time on purpose, pushing the bone slowly toward the big green pillow in the corner. After a few repetitions, Hank grew impatient and picked the large treat up, and toted it to the pillow himself. Ruby barked loudly in complaint, and Hank whined in invitation from his spot on the pillow. Ruby scampered to him and found her spot between his paws again. As they watched the dogs, Hank gnawed one end of the bone while Ruby licked the other."

Heather smiled warmly at Gil. "They're amazing together."

"Yes they are. You want to see if there are any good movies on TV tonight?"

"Sure just let me pick up all this stuff on the floor first."

He helped her tidy up, stripped down to his boxers, and then climbed into bed with the remote in hand. A short while later as she was drifting off to sleep in his arms, he kissed the top of her head and whispered "Thanks for today."

She murmured something into the curve of his shoulder that he couldn't quite make out, but he smiled, flicked off the TV and then turned out the lights.


	19. Chapter 19

Scene Nineteen

When Gil woke the next morning Heather was not in the room. He sat up, and looked for her, and realized almost at once she must to be outside with the dogs; neither Hank nor Ruby was in the room with him. He got out of bed, showered, and dressed quickly to go in search of them. When he reached the lobby he saw a familiar face. "Good morning Miss Lily."

"Good morning Gil. Heather said to tell you when you came downstairs that she'd be out by the pond."

"Okay, thanks Miss Lily." Gil replied waving good-bye as he left the lobby."

Once he was outside, he found her; sitting on a blanket in the grass and playing with the dogs. Ruby sat in her lap, and Hank was flat on his back beside her with all four feet in the air and really enjoying a belly rub. Gil sat down on the side opposite Hank and kissed her quickly on the cheek. "Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

"I did; and you?"

"Like the innocent. Have you eaten yet?"

"No, I was waiting on you. I decided to give you until nine before I ate without you. You had another sixteen minutes."

"Why didn't you wake me before you left the room?"

"Because I told you I'd let you sleep in."

Heather smiled as Jill came walking toward them. "Are you ready to order breakfast now?"

"Yes, I think so Jill." She looked at Gil for confirmation, and he nodded.

After they placed their orders Heather suggested they move to a table on the terrace. As he took his seat, Gil asked, "Have the dogs eaten yet?"

"Yes they have. They were hungry this morning."

"Well, Hank is always hungry, and it might be a while before Ruby feels secure in the knowledge she will be fed every day. Poor girl knows what it's like to be hungry."

Heather reached down and patted the little black dog on the head.

Jill brought their breakfast and after she left Heather asked, "Where did you get Hank?"

"I got him from a shelter. One day A few years ago I was feeling kind of lonely. I went for a drive; just to get out of the house and wound up at an animal shelter. That's where I found him. All of the other dogs were alert and responsive; they wanted my attention. Hank just lay in his cage and stared at me without moving. He wouldn't even wag his tail. I left but I couldn't stop thinking about him. So the next day, I went back to take him a bone, and I wound up taking him home."

Heather gave him one of her soul-probing stares, "A lonely man befriends a lonely dog."

"Well, this woman I liked…" he paused and gave Heather a pointed look."…she'd just made it perfectly clear she didn't want anything more to do with me. I guess I was feeling rather rejected, and I didn't like the look in Hank's eyes. He didn't even try to interact with me. He seemed resigned to the fact that no one wanted him. It worried me."

"So Hank found someone who did want him; and… what about you? Did this woman you liked change her mind?" she smiled and winked at him.

Grissom smiled, "Yes …I think she did… eventually."

Heather simply smiled without comment, took a bite of her oatmeal, and then changed the subject. "What do you want to do today?"

"It doesn't matter. I don't have anything particular in mind."

"Well let's take that tour of the winery and then find a way to stay active throughout the day. We'll make it a late night so you can revert back to your nocturnal ways in time for work tomorrow. Our flight leaves at ten A.M. so that I can get you back to Las Vegas in time for a long nap before then. If all goes according to plan you should be back in Henderson by noon. I'll do my best to keep you awake between now and then."

"Sounds like you thought of everything." he commented while spearing a bite of pancakes with his fork.

"No not everything...I should have made you a birthday cake, and brought it along."

Gil set his folk down and stared at her; his blue eyes smoky with desire. "I remember the last birthday cake you made."

Heather slowly set down the coffee cup that she'd been about to sip from, picked up the strawberry from his plate, and held it to his lips; waiting for him to bite into the sweet fruit. "As do I Mr. Grissom, as do I." She smiled seductively as he sampled the berry.

Nearby a tall dark haired man who was passing their table was watching the couple so intently that he walked right into a large potted fern at the edge of the terrace, and the resulting commotion caused both Heather and Gil to look up briefly. An employee of the inn rushed to help the man to his feet.

"Sir, Are you alright?"

The man muttered an inaudible reply and hurried away embarrassed by his careless accident.

Heather covered her mouth to conceal a quiet chuckle. "Poor man: why is he familiar to me?" she questioned.

"He's a guest here too. He was the man who stared at you all through dinner night before last. Maybe I should take you back upstairs to the privacy of our room before he seriously injuries himself."

Heather laughed quietly before sipping her coffee. Then, talking over the rim of her cup, she warned, "If the goal is to keep you awake as much as possible over the next 24 hours, then we should stay out of the bed. If we go back up there now, you will only wind up sleeping poorly between bouts of passion." She raised a flirtatious eyebrow. By tomorrow night, you'll be utterly exhausted and work will make you unbearable. You'll be short tempered, and your team's not-so-discreet speculation over exactly how we spent our weekend will do nothing to improve your mood."

He helped himself to another bite of pancakes before answering with a shrug. "They're going to gossip whether or not I'm well rested. I may as well get used to it. Catherine can be counted on to be discreet… but, now that we've confirmed our relationship with her… Well, it's only a matter of time before everyone else is talking about it too."

Heather studied him quietly for a moment before asking in a hushed tone, "Are you sure you're ready for that?"

He sat quietly for a moment carefully choosing his words before responding. "it's a minor annoyance compared to the privilege attached."

She studied him a moment longer. "And if the annoyance wears thin?"

He smiled easily, shrugged, and offered honestly, "I'll lose my temper, snap that someone, and, in doing so, I'll give Catherine a cheap thrill."

Heather raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes, for some reason or other, she likes it when I momentarily loose my head and start barking at people."

Heather cocked her head to one side and thought this bit of news over for a moment before she nodded her acceptance. "Yes… That would appeal to Catherine."


	20. Chapter 20

Scene Twenty

Leaving the winery, Gil and Heather stepped out into California's early afternoon sunlight hand in hand. Choosing by unspoken agreement not to take the shuttle back to the chateau, they set out on foot; preferring the privacy of their own exclusive company to that of the group traveling back to the octagonal shaped villa by vehicle. For a time they walked slowly along the meandering foot path in the contented silence that exists between true companions. Only after he let go of her hand and paused just long enough to extract a small trinket from the hip pocket of his jeans did she feel compelled to break their silence.

"What exactly are you going to do with that?"

He shrugged one shoulder as he pursed his lips thoughtfully and ran the pad of his right thumb gently over the logo that was burned into the wine cork. He tossed it gently into the air, stalling while he made up his mind, caught it, and sniffed it before answering. "I'm going to put it in a small shadow box and keep it next to my favorite picture of Dad."

She thought this over for a moment; a soft smile gently lifting the corners of her mouth. "A place of honor?"

He nodded and draped an arm loosely around her shoulders as he carefully placed his new momento in the palm of her upturned hand.

She used her thumb to roll the small wine stained trinket gently against the tender flesh in the center of her hand. She studied it intently for a moment and then turned her gaze up to meet his; something obviously on the tip of her tongue.

When she reconsidered and chose not to voice her thoughts, he smiled. "What?"

She snuggled closer in his embrace and shook her head. "Nothing… it doesn't matter." She said softly; returning the cork to his hand once more and using her touch to curl his fingers around it protectively.

"Does to me."

She shook her head again before resting it on his shoulder. "I was going to suggest a trip to what I'm sure is the B & B's very well stocked gift shop for a more typical, and no doubt higher priced, souvenir, but this is better… more your style."

He tucked the cork back into his pocket. "We can go in there if you want to. I don't mind… But I've got all I want."

"Yes, I know." She brushed a tender kiss against his lips.

"Gift shop looks pretty big. You could probably kill an hour or two in there." He teased; his blue eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Mr. Grissom, are you making fun of my passion for shopping?"

"I am." He declared undaunted by her raised eyebrow

"Gil, based on what I've seen just passing by the windows, that shop is nowhere near big enough or impressive enough for two hours; 45 minutes maybe… But that's pushing it."

"Is the square footage of the store directly proportional to the amount of time you can spend in it?"

She smacked his chest playfully. "No, of course not. It could be a dusty, cramped, little hole in the wall and I would spend days in there if they offered the right treasures."

He chuckled almost inaudibly. "That's one of the things I just don't understand about you Heather. When I go shopping, I know what I want, I know exactly where to get it, I go in, I get only what I intended to get, then I get out and go straight home. By the time it's over, I'm usually in a foul mood. I hate shopping. But you… You'll leave the house right about the time I'm falling into bed, you come back 6 ½ hours later with a big smile on your face, even if you haven't purchased a single item and you returned home empty handed. And that's the part that puzzles me most of all. I've seen you come home with your arms weighed down with overloaded shopping bags, and I've seen you come home from a ½ day shopping trip with absolutely nothing. No matter which, you're always smiling like you've just indulged in some decadent guilty pleasure."

She simply shrugged.

"Yes!" he pointed an accusing finger at her enthusiastically. "Same smile! Right there. See… just thinking about it makes you happy."

"I'm not as bad as some." She objected laughing. "If I don't find what I want, I don't have to buy. I can come home empty handed… I'm okay with that. You just don't understand the fine art of window shopping. Or more aptly, you haven't put in the right context yet."

"The right context? Where's the fun in spending hours looking at things you have no intention of buying?"

She paused to think for a moment; choosing her words. "Just think of it as delayed gratification… A concept I know you understand very well. She paused to offer him a sexy smile before supplying a more detailed example. "I'm not going to buy this today… But maybe someday… Gives me something to look forward to."

"Okay, if you say so… Come on. Let's go." He smiled; his blue eyes laughing at her as he made the turn that would take them to the gift shop rather than back to the chateau.

"I don't know." She laughed. "I don't think I want to go shopping with you Gil. You're enjoying poking fun at me a little too much. You might spoil it…" she held up a finger, silently asking him to wait a moment when the cell phone in the pocket of her skirt alerted her to an incoming call with the sound of a delicate wind chime swaying in the breeze. Without glancing at the display screen she answered politely, "Yes Ma'am?"

Grissom watched her face and waited while she listened to whatever the caller was saying in response to her greeting.

She smiled at him as she talked to the person on the other end of the line. "That's because Hayden grew up with caller ID. He thinks, like most people his age, that just because he knows who's on the other end of the line phone etiquette shouldn't matter."

Grissom raised an eyebrow.

Heather mouthed quietly. "Nana Zoë."

He nodded and waved.

"Yes. It was breathtaking; exhilarating. Don't think I've seen a more glorious sunrise. Gil says hello…" She frowned and there was uncertainty in her voice when she continued. "No, we hadn't planned on it. Are we expected?" After a brief pause Heather nodded theatrically for his benefit. "Of course, you're right. Forgive me. It was thoughtless of me. We'll be there in about an hour. Should we bring anything? Alright we'll see you soon."

She disconnected the call, slipped the phone back into her pocket, and took him by the hand. With purpose in her stride, she changed direction, heading once more for the chateau.

"You've been granted a reprieve. No shopping today. I'm in hot water with my grandmother. Your presence has been requested."

He squinted. "She's upset with us?"

Heather flashed him a warm smile and shook her head. "Not us… Me… You're fine."

His curiosity piqued; Grissom followed without question.


End file.
